


Kinktober 2020 (Slamdunk)

by Star7



Category: Slam Dunk
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Office, Anal Fingering, Anal Probing, Awkward Boners, Barely Legal, Blow Jobs, Boss/Employee Relationship, Bunny Hybrid Rukawa Kaede, Casting Couch, Crossdressing, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Duct tape gag, F/M, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Free Use, Frottage, Gentle Kissing, Gratitude Kink, Humiliation, Hybrids, In Public, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Kneeling, Light Bondage, Locker Room, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Medical Kink, Multi, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Not actually non-consenting, Office Blow Jobs, Omorashi, Praise Kink, Public Blow Jobs, Public Transportation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Sea God Rukawa Kaede, Size Difference, Sounding, Speculum use, Spitroasting, Sun God Sendoh Akira, Tentacle Rape, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Threesome - M/M/M, Unrequited Love, Urethral Play, Urination, Wolf Hybrid Maki Shinichi, Wolf Hybrid Sendoh Akira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26732095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star7/pseuds/Star7
Summary: Collection of one-shots for Kinktober 2020 - tags added as month progresses(N.B. 3-some uke in (brackets) )1) Maki x Fujima office AU (omorashi prompt)2) Kogure x Mitsui (sounding prompt)3) Sendoh x (Rukawa) x Sawakita (medical kink - dead dove warning)4) Fujima x Kiyota (& Maki x Fujima) - (boot worship prompt - foot fetish)5) Sendoh x (Rukawa) x Maki - Animal Hybrid AU (double penetration (spit roast) prompt)6) Haruko!? x Rukawa (& Mitsui x Rukawa) - non-explicit mostly "feelings" - (free use prompt)7) Rukawa x Sendoh - Classical gods AU (tentacles prompt - another DEAD DOVE!)8) Rukawa x Sakuragi - hands + pants + packed train (frottage prompt)9) Kogure x Mitsui - office AU + age difference (casting couch prompt)10) Jin x Kyota - locker rooms (praise prompt)
Relationships: Akagi Haruko/Rukawa Kaede, Fujima Kenji/Kiyota Nobunaga, Fujima Kenji/Maki Shinichi, Jin Soichiro/Kiyota Nobunaga, Kogure Kiminobu/Mitsui Hisashi, Mitsui Hisashi/Rukawa Kaede, Rukawa Kaede/Sakuragi Hanamichi, Sendoh Akira/Rukawa Kaede/Maki Shinichi, Sendoh Akira/Sawakita Eiji/Rukawa Kaede
Comments: 25
Kudos: 48





	1. Day 1 - Omorashi

**Day One - Omorashi**

The binds did not give. The skin of his wrists was sore from the effort of struggling to loosen the ropes, not to mention the agony in his knees. He whimpered. The noise went unheard.

Away, on the far side of the room, a man was working at a desk. A single desk lamp brightened his papers. He held a fountain pen in his hand, artfully marking, initialling, signing the papers one by one. He did not look up.

The rest of the room was dark. Only a meagre luminance struck Fujima’s bare chest, highlighting the contours of his arms. His upper body was bare. His legs were still covered by his suit trousers. His lips trembled as yet another sob worked its way up his chest.

“Shinichi-” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “P- Please.”

It was almost unbearable now. The weight. His stomach a little distended. His bladder sitting heavy – so heavy. The waistband of his trousers felt increasingly tight.

Still, Maki did not look up.

Miserably, Fujima’s eyes wandered over the cups lined up along his own desk. Each was empty now. It didn’t seem like too long ago he’d been on his knees between Maki’s thighs, with a funnel in his mouth and his head forced back. Swallowing and swallowing if only to keep himself from drowning. But that must have been hours ago.

Hours and hours and hours.

_Water_.

Just thinking of the liquid made his guts hurt.

Fujima turned his head, observing his position. Maki had tied him well, he could barely move. Not even half an inch of slack. His arms spread wide, wrists lashed to the partition walls. He had pulled with all his might but they hadn’t shifted. His knees were aching against the rough heavy-duty office carpet. He couldn’t even feel them anymore.

His shirt and blazer were crumpled on the floor by the wall. Maki hadn’t bothered being careful removing them. Most of the buttons had been ripped. And the front, Fujima recalled, was sopping wet from the water that had spilled over his chin.

Maki’s was the only desk that was occupied. Set at the front of the room, alone. A powerful pinnacle occupied by one powerful man. Behind Fujima, lost into darkness, were many desks and cubicles assigned to the worthless, like Fujima.

He knelt at the entrance to the cubicle maze, right where everyone walked. In a few meagre hours rather, shoes would be passing here. They would tread the carpet where his knees had formed indents.

It gave him a feeling of relief to know that at least – at _least_ – this could not continue forever. At some point, Maki would have to release him, if only because of the start of the new work day.

But morning was still far off. Maki still sat in the light of his lamp, signing papers. And Fujima still knelt and whimpered and suffered. He would not make it until morning. He was fooling himself.

“Shinichi-” he tried again, desperate. “I’m sorry. I’m _sorry_.”

The boss tutted. He set down the pen, and lifted his eyes. He looked at Fujima’s prone body with such disdain that Fujima felt the pain in his gut worsen. He groaned with it.

“If you don’t want to be punished,” Maki told him in a low, no-nonsense tone, “don’t make these kind of losses.” He tapped on a file with the end of his pen. “Fifteen percent. That’s a joke!”

Fujima cringed. “I’m sorry.” There was nothing else to say. He’d already begged for hours. He’d tried to explain. His mistake. His misunderstanding. How he hadn’t meant – how he’d thought. But Maki didn’t care to hear it. So Fujima simply said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Maki tilted his head a little. “Are you uncomfortable?” he asked.

It was the first time he’d paid attention to Fujima’s condition all night.

Fujima’s head lifted hopefully. “I-” he flushed, and grimaced. “I need to- actually I-”

“Yes? Speak up.”

“I need to… use the bathroom.” It was embarrassing. In response to his words, he could feel the urge to urinate increase once again. He tried to close his legs to hold it in. Soon, he worried, it would begin to leak from him despite his efforts to hold it.

“Do you?”

“Yes,” then Fujima quickly added. “Please.”

“Then go,” Maki told him, turning back to his papers.

_What?_ “But-” Fujima tugged his wrists compulsively. “I- I- can’t move.”

“Go where you are.”

Fujima paled. “Here?” He looked down. The carpet between his knees was rough and a little dirty. Soon, polished office shoes and sharp heeled stilettos would walk over it.

“Yes,” Maki confirmed. “You won’t leave until you do.”

Fujima swallowed his disbelief. _He wants me to…_

“You perform like a child. A baby. A complete incompetent,” Maki told him. “Then, you say you are sorry. Well then. Let me see it. Acknowledge your own incompetence.”

“But-”

“Do it, or wait until your body forces you to.”

The pain. It was too much.

“Shinichi-” he tried again to plead.

Then he saw Maki smile. Everything inside Fujima went cold. _He’s serious. He’s really, really serious._

He tried to hold it in. He really did. But time crawled by. The urge growing and growing. A hotness that moved in his bladder.

It came first in the smallest of leaks. He simply couldn’t hold it. A tiny patch of dampness in his underwear. He must have made a sound – or perhaps it was the smell? – but Maki was on his feet at once.

_This_ was what he had been waiting for.

Maki crossed the gap between then and stood directly before the kneeling Fujima, his feet spread apart confidently.

To Fujima’s horror, now that a little had been allowed to escape, it was even harder to hold the rest back.

“No-” Fujima groaned, desperate. “No, no, no, ngh-”

Maki’s hand fisted tight in his hair and pushed his face straight into his crotch. The thick bulge of his erection rubbed hard against Fujima’s cheek.

And Fujima gave up, loosing his muscles in a sudden flood.

He cried and cried, pitiful as the urine rush from his body, soaking his trousers, and filling the air with the acrid smell of piss. His tears were half humiliation. Half complete and utter relief.

Because it felt so good. _So_ good. The pressure and the pain relieved. The warm sensation of the urine soaking against his skin. Maki’s hand in his hair. And his arousal shoved in his face.

Fujima sobbed and sniffled wretchedly while Maki slowly patted his head and carded his thick fingers through Fujima’s hair.

“What are you?” Maki asked him quietly.

“Incompetent,” Fujima gurgled back.

“What have you done to your trousers?” Maki pressed him.

“I… I pissed myself.”

“Yes. Yes, you did.” Maki patted his cheek patronisingly. “Go home. After work tomorrow, we’ll work on this again.”

“W-what?” Fujima couldn’t help but stammer.

Maki crouched down before him, his eyes warm with concern. “Oh. Did you think this was the end of your punishment?” he gave a cold smirk. “Do not wash these pants,” he instructed him. “I want them in a plastic bag on my desk first thing tomorrow. Do you understand?”

“I-”

“Do you _understand_?”

Fujima dropped his eyes. “Yes, boss.”


	2. Day 2 - Sounding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 - Sounding (Kogure x Mitsui)

**Day Two - Sounding**

“I- I think I’ve changed my mind,” Mitsui muttered, eyeing the set of rods and turning rather pale.

Kogure, who had been hopping from one foot to the other in excitement stilled. “Oh-” he said, and the disappointment was audible in his voice. “Really? I mean – that’s okay. If you don’t want to, but-”

His eyes flickered down to the rods. They shone bright silver against the black leather case. They looked beautiful and remarkably textile. Smooth and elegant. Delicate rounded tips, and a very gentle bend in their form.

“We did talk it through,” Kogure pointed out delicately. “I thought you were okay with it?”

“I...” Mitsui hesitated, and grimaced. “I guess I didn’t exactly… think about what would actually… happen.”

That was half the story. Really, all he’d been able to see was the excitement in Kogure’s eyes as he’d explained it. He’d learnt about it online. Some kinky website. And he was keen to do it. Not to himself. No – he’d explained it in simple terms like this:

_You always penetrate me_ , he’d said. _And you don’t want me to take you that way._

_So this… this is my chance. To have you at my mercy. To give you that feeling. To let you know how it feels to be possessed by me._

Well. That was what Kiminobu had said. However, at the time he’d been wearing his cotton sleeping shorts and a slightly transparent tank top that did not quite hide his nipples and, if Mitsui was honest, he hadn’t really heard all that much of what Kogure was saying.

But there had been that look in his eyes. That excitement. That promise. That – _agree to this and you can fuck me later_ – look.

So yeah. He’d agreed. Who the hell wouldn’t have?

Except now that the pack of starter rods had arrived, all new and shiny and… long… and hard… and _big_. Well, ok, there were different sizes. The thinnest was very delicate. The largest looked like a freaking bullet. _None_ of them looked like the sort of thing he’d actually want to insert into his… own… penis.

“I-” his mouth twisted unhappily. “I don’t know.”

Kogure sighed, and Mitsui felt intensely guilty. _I got his hopes up_ , he realised. _I didn’t take him seriously. And now I’m letting him down again_.

_I’m always screwing up._

_He deserves so much better._

_Why do I always have to-?_

He closed his eyes for a moment. “All right,” he said, finally. “Maybe we can… try. Just...” he pulled a face, “...just the smallest one, okay?”

Kogure’s arms were around him at once, his joyful face setting kisses upon his cheek. “Hisashi!” he exclaimed, “Really?”

“Uh – yeah. Really. Sure.” _Why not?_ He put his hands on Kogure’s waist and enjoyed it when Kogure moved to kiss him full on the mouth. _How bad can it be?_

* * *

_This is bad_ , he realised, staring at the probe in Kogure’s fingers. It did not look like it would fit. _This – is – insane._

“Kimi?” he whimpered a little.

Kogure smiled at him, glancing up through his fringe. He looked so sweet. So innocent. So unlike a person who was about to do this to him. _Oh, my god_.

“Close your eyes,” Kogure suggested calmly. Mitsui immediately screwed his eyes shut as hard as he could.

He was sitting with his back to the headboard of their shared bed, his legs outstretched straight before him. Kogure was perched on his thighs, tongue peeking out from between his lips in concentration as his cool fingers curled around Mitsui’s flaccid penis and held it gently upwards, examining the head. He’d already taken care to clean everything – the sounding rods, his hands, Mitsui’s cock. He’d lathered the rod with copious amounts of urethra-friendly lubricant. And now all that was left was to...

_Oh, my god_.

Kogure’s fingers gently dug into the flesh of his cock head, pulling it a little to the side, widening the tiny hole to a small gap.

“Breathe,” Kogure reminded him. Mitsui sucked in a desperate breath, keeping his eyes closed tight.

He felt the cold, rounded head of the sound dip into the hole. He had to fight back the urge to cry.

“Relax,” Kogure whispered soothingly, even as Mitsui felt the pressure increase, the lube making the smooth metal slide in with barely any resistance at all. His whole body tensed up in terror. “I said, relax!”

He could feel the pressure, the movement, the strange slide and the fill. A couple of times it stopped, and a little wriggle was required to get it moving again. And Mitsui was quickly in a wretched state.

“Kiminobu,” Mitsui heard himself pleading in fear. “I can’t – I can’t – It won’t – It won’t fit -!”

“It’s in already,” he was informed. “See for yourself.”

A little surprised, Mitsui opened his eyes to look. This was, it turned out, a big mistake. His eyes fixed upon his tortured penis caught between Kogure’s fingers. And from the tip, the final inch of the sounding rod still emerged. It looked like something out of a horror story. Like someone had put pins in his cock. He closed his eyes again quick, before he could vomit.

_Oh, my god. OH MY GOD_.

“How does it feel?” Kogure asked him.

_Like I’m going to DIE,_ Mitsui screamed in his mind.

“Don’t panic,” the fingers of Kogure’s other hand moved up to caress his face, and Mitsui leaned into the touch desperately. “I’m here. You’re fine. Just breathe, okay?”

Mitsui took several wet and miserable breaths.

“How does it _feel_?” Kogure’s fingers moved into his hair, massaging him reassuringly. “Can you feel it there?”

“Uhm-” Mitsui tried to concentrate through the haze of panic. It was true that the sight of his penetrated cock was enough to turn his stomach. But that was the work of his eyes. In actual fact, apart from some minor pressure, he couldn’t feel much at all. So long as he kept his eyes closed. It didn’t _hurt_. It was just – so weird.

“It’s… okay...” he managed to mutter reluctantly, still concentrating on breathing. “It’s… it’s… _fuck_!”

He felt it move. Some tension, sensation, running right through his cock from the base to the tip. Kogure twisting the rod in a slow rotation that dragged against his walls in the most disturbing way.

“Ah!” he cried out pitifully, blubbering a little bit as he let out a moan.

Kogure shushed him gently, leaning forwards, setting kisses on Mitsui’s tense brow, even as his spare hand reached down and brushed gently up Mitsui’s full length. “You’re rock hard,” he whispered.

Kogure’s hand felt like a ball of lightning. The touch was so gentle, barely even a brush of contact, but it felt to Mitsui like the most intense handjob of his life. He grunted in astonishment, and Kogure silenced him by kissing him full on the mouth.

Mitsui’s head rolled back, bumping into the backboard, smoothing his lips over Kogure’s mindlessly. He felt weak and languid, laying there helpless while Kogure’s hand moved up and down the outside of his shaft, and the rod was moved gently in and out just a touch, giving him friction all the way down.

“I’m gonna cum,” he spluttered in astonishment after mere minutes of stimulation.

“Already?”

“Ngh, Kiminobu, stop.”

He felt Kogure’s smile press against his lips. “You like this? You like me fucking you like this?”

"Stop. Stop!" Mitsui whimpered, feeling the edge of orgasm rushing up on him fast. Too fast. Way too fast. "I'm gonna - I'm gonna -"

Kogure's tongue pushed heavy into his mouth with one hot thrust. His hand dragged with a comfortable snap of his wrist, up and down and up and down and...

Mitsui came with a strangled scream, the force pushing the rod out of his cock by a few inches. Kogure removed the pressure from the end of the rod and let it expel partially. Then he drew back and watched in fascination as the cum dribbled out around the metal stick, leaking out over Mitsui's cockhead. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. His own erection throbbed hard in front of him.

When he looked up, he found that Mitsui was staring down at the messy scene too, his eyes dazed, his lips a little slack as he took in the sight of his own skewered cock leaking pathetically.

"How was it?" Kogure asked softly.

Mitsui blinked up at him, trembling slightly. "Amazing," he said, his voice hoarse.

Kogure smiled.


	3. Day 3 - Medical Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 - Medical Play
> 
> WARNING - Insertion of inappropriate gynaecological instruments into anal passageways! DEAD DOVE DO NOT FUCKING EAT!

**Day 3 – Medical Play**

Rukawa didn’t know where he was. He blinked dazedly up at the lights above – harsh and brilliant and filling his vision with white. He could half remember… what? He had been eating. Dinner. Yes. He could recall the taste of the vinegar. Someone had been there… who?

Of course. _That_ bastard. Sendoh Akira.

And then… and then what? What had happened? He’d been drinking. Alcohol? Yeah – that had probably been a mistake. He had never been good at holding his drink. But Sendoh had had that smile on his face and that _come on, just a little, relax!_ nonsense spouting from his mouth and so…

He squinted anxiously up at the bright lights, struggling to make sense of it.

He’d felt a bit dizzy. He’d… fallen? No. Someone had caught him. He’d slipped off the chair, but then… but then what? He couldn’t recall anything else.

“Ahhh~” a voice sounded nearby. “The patient is finally awake!”

_What-?_ Rukawa tried to turn his head, but he still felt groggy and strange, and he couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from. 

It just… didn’t make sense.

“Nurse! Some assistance please.”

“Yes, doctor.”

_What the hell is going on?_

Above him, a face appeared, just an indistinct shadow in the brightness of the lights.

“Hello, young man. You took quite a tumble there. Some kind of fainting spell. But don’t worry-” Rukawa felt a rubbery glove press reassuringly down upon his shoulder. The strange scent of latex caught his nose. “You’re fine now.”

Rukawa swallowed thickly. His throat was so dry. He wanted to open his mouth, to ask. But he could seem to coordinate his voice.

The doctor’s face slowly became clearer to him. A handsome friendly smile. Cheerful blue eyes framed with round spectacles giving him an intelligent air. Dressed in a crisp white doctor’s coat with a stethoscope hung round his neck.

_Oh. Hell no_.

“I’m your attending, Dr Sendoh Akira,” he smiled reassuringly. “And this is Nurse Eiji. We just need to do some basic tests. Nothing to worry about. You’ll probably be discharged soon, we just want to be cautious.”

“I don’t need any tests,” Rukawa tried to croak out at him. 

But this only seemed to amuse the doctor, who patted his cheek softly. “That’s what they all say. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”

_Like hell_ , Rukawa thought.

“Nurse?” the doctor prompted, and Sawakita was immediately by the bedside, lifting Rukawa’s wrist to check his pulse.

“Yes, I'm here. Hello there,” he addressed Rukawa in a friendly voice. “I’m Nurse Eiji, I’ll be assisting today. Could you please answer some preliminary questions?”

Rukawa closed his eyes with a small groan.

“We found your name from the details in your wallet,” the nurse explained, “but could you please confirm that you are Rukawa Kaede?”

“Yes,” Rukawa replied reluctantly.

“And your date of birth?”

“Jan 1st.”

“Perfect.”

“Hn.”

Sawakita's gentle fingers left his wrist and moved instead to his throat. “I’m going to press gently,” he warned. 

Rukawa felt the pressure increase as Sawakita felt for the grands in his neck, his fingers providing an alien sensation right where Rukawa was most vulnerable. Rukawa’s eyelashes fluttered gently against his cheek as Sawakita's fingers slowly massaged his neck.

“Do you have any drug allergies?” Sawakita asked him.

“None.”

“And, are you a virgin?”

Rukawa’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

Sawakita's face was inches away, smiling down at him. There was something a little predatory in his eyes that make Rukawa suddenly shiver.

“I asked if you have any pain anywhere,” Sawakita told him softly.

Rukawa glared up at him. “No,” he answered, his voice tight.

Sawakita withdrew his hands. “That’s good,” he whispered. He straightened and picked up a clipboard from a pocket on the side of the bed, examining it and making quick notes with a ball-point pen. “Doctor! The patient is ready for you!”

_Oh no, not that guy…_

Sendoh appeared immediately in Rukawa’s line of vision, bright smile still in place. Frustrated, Rukawa tried to move, determined to get up and put an end to this farce.

That was how he discovered that he was tied to the bed. His mind was still a little foggy, but things were slowly coming back into focus now. His body. He had not paid much attention to it so far – the numbness creating a strange absence of his limbs. But now…

He realised that there were long leather lashes holding his wrists, so that he could lift them a foot or so off the bed but no further than that. Worse, there was something around his neck which Rukawa suspected was another restraint of some kind keeping him down. And lastly – for fuck’s sake – he realised his knees were bent in towards his chest, creating twin tents in the blanket covering his body and his ankles had been tied tightly to the edges of the bed so that he lay sprayed open like a frog. 

_Oh fucking hell_.

“Let’s take a quick look, shall we?” Sendoh asked him brightly, taking hold of the top of the blanket and slowly pulling it downwards.

_No, don’t-_ Rukawa wanted to protest, but he only grit his teeth. Because of course he was already naked underneath. And begging, he knew full well, would only get Sendoh all the more excited.

Sendoh brought the blanket down halfway, to his waist, exposing his chest slowly to the cool air in a teasing ticklish drag. Then he snapped the blanket away with a flourish and Rukawa flushed deeply in humiliation. He lay naked on the sheet, legs bent and opened wide, unable to move.

_Oh, fuck you. Fuck you!_ He was frothing with anger and humiliation. But he swallowed it down and concentrated on breathing. Determined not to give Sendoh the satisfaction of his discomfort.

“Excellent-” Sendoh said calmly, folding the blanket and placing it aside. “We’ll start with a basic temperature check, then.”

He reached for a tray of instruments off to the side, just slightly out of Rukawa’s view. He picked up a long, thin probe with a digital unit at the end of a wire, holding it up so Rukawa could see. “Nurse? Can you prepare this please?”

“Yes, doctor!” Sawakita was at Sendoh’s side at once, a pot of something translucent in his hand which he applied to the probe with his gloved fingers.

When he was satisfied the probe was lubricated, Sendoh moved slowly around to the end of the bed, his face appearing between Rukawa’s parted knees, looking down and considering the place where the probe was to be inserted.

Rukawa curled his hands into fists, relaxed his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes.

He felt Sendoh’s fingers brush gently up his inner thigh, and his shuddered at the touch.

“Sensitive,” Sendoh noted thoughtfully. “Nurse, do make a note of this.”

“Yes, doctor.”

The end of the thermometer brushed against Rukawa’s entrance teasingly. “Patient’s reaction is...” he pushed the probe inside and Rukawa squeezed his eyes closed more tightly, as if trying to block it all out. “...minimal,” the doctor concluded, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Rukawa let out his breath. The probe was thin and well lubricated. He could barely feel it, in fact.

But then the bastard began to move it around.

Rukawa’s eyebrows knitted in annoyance as the metal rod was dragged one way and then the other, irritating the muscles at his entrance, prodding him ruthlessly inside at various angles.

“Response to anal stimulation is more positive,” the doctor noted.

“A larger object of penetration might produce more notable results,” Sawakita suggested innocently.

“An excellent idea, nurse.”

“Of course.”

_You two... bastards..._ Rukawa seethed silently.

The digital thermometer finally beeped, but the two medical professionals did not seem particularly interested in the results anymore. The probe was removed.

“Nurse, please provide the patient with preliminary stimulation while I prepare the instruments,” Sendoh said brightly.

“Yes doctor.”

_Fuck_ , Rukawa thought.

Sendoh moved away, and Sawakita centred himself between Rukawa’s legs instead.

“Please try to relax,” he said gently. “This will only take a moment.”

He picked up an unlabelled plastic bottle from which he squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his medical gloves and carefully coated all five fingers.

Rukawa watched him nervously. _Five… fingers…?_

Sawakita sent him a bright smile that made Rukawa feel a little sick. “Relax!” he repeated cheerfully. Then pushed the first digit into Rukawa’s body.

Rukawa could not hold back his reaction. The slight jerk in his hips, and the grimace that crossed his face, his ankles straining at the leather bindings, wanting to close his legs, to protect himself against this intrusion, unable to _move_.

“Oh, doctor, this is _much_ more promising,” Sawakita told Sendoh happily. Dragging the finger out and replacing it with two.

“Ngh!” Rukawa bit down on his lip hard. The angle was an unusual one, and he could feel the weight of Sawakita's fingers pushing against his rim with unusual sensitively. A strange warmness seemed to spread out from that point, as if the fingers were pushing heat into him. Too late he realised it hadn’t been plain lube after all.

The heat intensified by the moment, as Sawakita began to expertly scissor his fingers, stretching Rukawa first one direction, and then the next. He worked him so thoroughly that Rukawa barely noticed when a third finger joined its fellows.

Between Rukawa’s legs, his cock had already hardened to its full most size, aching to be touched. His breath had reduced to worried pants.

“Is the patient sufficiently prepared?” Sendoh queried from Rukawa’s right. Rukawa’s head dropped to the side to try and see what he was doing over there by the tray. A mistake. His eyes immediately fell upon the most terrifying instrument he had ever seen, there in Sendoh’s hand. It was metal, long and flat and wide, like a duck’s beak.

Sendoh sent him an amused smile and squeezed the trigger in demonstration. The two blades of the beak widened, as if the duck was suddenly screaming. A little bit like Rukawa suddenly want to do. Because that wouldn’t – wouldn’t – _wouldn’t_ fit. And not even that fucking crazy pervert could possibly... _possibly_ think that... 

_Oh, shit._

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

Rukawa began to struggle against the bindings again, tugging uselessly against the leather. He tried to lift up his head and shoulders, but as he had feared, the leather collar around his throat held him flush to the bed.

“Not yet!” Sawakita replied to Sendoh's question, thrusting his three fingers in and out, in and out, and dragging Rukawa’s attention back to what was already going on in his ass.

He groaned, suddenly feeling frightened. “No-” he managed to gasp. “I don’t – I don’t want to-”

“Oh,” Sawakita tilted his head a little, looking totally calm even as his fingers and arm continued to work at a rapid pace, pistoning quickly in and out of Rukawa’s body. “The patient has an opinion about the treatment, doctor.”

“Really?” Sendoh set the terrifying speculum back down on the tray. “Well, that’s quite unnecessary.”

“Quite.”

“Let’s do something about that.”

Sendoh’s fingers came out of nowhere and pinched down hard on Rukawa’s nose. Rukawa’s jaw slackened immediately, an impulsive response to the loss of air. He knew the trick. Sendoh had done this to him many times before. And yet he fell for it like a fool every single time.

A steel tongue depressor was thrust quickly lengthways between his teeth before he had the sense to close them again, so that the ends protruded slightly from either side of his mouth. Panicking, knowing exactly what Sendoh was doing, Rukawa attempted to push the offending article out of his mouth with his tongue, but Sendoh’s fingers held it firmly in place and would not let go.

“Now, now,” he whispered close to Rukawa’s ear. “Patients should accept the expert examination of their doctors, don’t you think?”

“Nngh!” Rukawa struggled, snapping his head from side to side in an attempt to shake off Sendoh’s hands. But Sendoh had prepared better than Rukawa had realised, and a long strip of heavy-duty duct tape was slapped down over his mouth and the metal bar before Rukawa could get free. Sendoh forced the tape tight down over his cheeks, keeping the rod in place.

Tears immediately began to well up in Rukawa’s eyes. Not so much at the sensation of being gagged – he’d half expected that to happen from the start – but because he knew that when Sendoh ripped the tape off later, his lips were going to bleed. The metal rod was pressing painfully into the covers of his mouth, distracting him for a moment. The tape was so tight that the flesh of his cheeks bulged a little over the edge. But the worst… the worst was yet to come.

He whimpered in spite of himself, turning pleading, desperate eyes upon Sawakita in hope of mercy.

Stupid, naive wish.

Sawakita gave him an encouraging smile before pushing in five fingers – Rukawa’s back nearly arched right off the bed – and spreading them all.

“Nearly there, doctor!”

“Hmm-” Sendoh tapped his chin as if deep in thought.

Rukawa could barely concentrate on what was going on, his tortured anal muscles spasming helplessly around Sawakita's fingers, his mind already well on its way to blinding panic.

“-do you think he could take your fist?” Sendoh commented casually, standing by Rukawa’s knee and watching what Sawakita was doing with interest. He lifted a hand and patted Rukawa’s leg absent-mindedly. Like he was patting a dog.

“Not today, doctor,” Sawakita turned reproachful eyes upon him. “It is not required for the diagnosis.”

“Oh,” Sendoh sounded disappointed. “Oh well. Next time, then. If he’s ready now, let’s proceed.”

“Yes, doctor.” Sawakita pulled his fingers out all at once, and for a moment, Rukawa was allowed to collapse back against the bed in momentary relief.

Momentary, being the operative word.

There was the terrifying sound of instruments being moved. The sound of metal on metal. Rukawa’s heartbeat, already hammering at a terrifying rate, turned up yet another notch.

“Nnnnn!” he tried to protest through his gag, his eyes moving rapidly, the whites clearly visible. “Nnnhgh!”

“Hold his cock, please,” Sendoh instructed, and Rukawa felt Sawakita's lube-sticky gloves curl around his erection and hold it tightly in place, pressed up against his stomach. Every single muscle in his body seemed to lock up in fear.

He felt the beak of the speculum against his entrance. It was _nothing_ like a finger. Or a plug. Or a cock. Or even a dildo. It was… just _wrong_. Wide and flat and more like a knife than anything.

Mercifully, he felt Sendoh’s fingers enter him first, feeling around, spreading him a little, before he began to wiggle the duck-bill inside along with the finger, tugging Rukawa’s muscles one way and then the other to allow the broad blade to fit.

Rukawa was crying freely now. The tears dripping into his ears.

“A little more,” Sawakita's soothing voice promised him. “You’re doing so well.” His hand began to move a little – just a little – a tiny tiny bit. Massaging Rukawa’s seeping cock reassuringly, giving him the smallest bit of distraction.

Rukawa’s fists curled and uncurled frantically, his breath stuttering.

“Ah!” Sendoh made a pleased noise, finally removing his finger and leaving Rukawa’s hole stretched into a narrow smile by the metal blade. “All in! Now – open wide!”

He pulled the trigger mechanism, and the beak opened.

If Rukawa could have screamed, he would have done so. The sensation of being levered open was totally unlike anything he’d ever felt before. There was pain, sharp and tearing his outer muscles despite all Sawakita's work to loosen him enough. And inside… inside… _oh, oh, oh god…_

The feeling of exposure was just too much. Sendoh crouched down to have a look inside and Rukawa was quite sure he was about to die.

"Mmmmgh," he tossed his head fearfully, "Ngh! Ngh!"

“Hmmmm...” Sendoh’s voice drifted to his ears from somewhere down by his wide open anus. “The fan please.”

_W- wh- what?_

"Here, doctor-"

The buzz of the machine reached his ears before the cold air hit his internal walls like a blast of ice cold water.

His whole body was shaking, his trembling knees rattling the bed quite violently.

"That seems to be doing the job quite well," Sendoh considered aloud.

"It certainly does."

"Suck him off, nurse."

"As you say, doctor."

_Fuuuuuuuuuuck-!_

Sawakita's hot, hot mouth replaced his hands on Rukawa's cock. Although Rukawa's mental state was fuzzy at best, his eyes still managed to take in the sight of Sawakita Eiji leaning over the bed railing to suck his cock.

He had a little nurses' cap perched on his short cropped hair that had been knocked a little askew.

He wore some sort of white blouse and- and-

Rukawa's eyes moved down Sawakita's long body to see a short white skirt that didn't fully cover his white lace panties and the top of his white suspenders.

His breath physically stopped.

_Oh, my god._

"And now, the finale!" he heard Sendoh say. And to his horror, the doctor began to pump the duck bill quite cheerfully open and closed.

The edge of his vision was already going white.

"NNNnnGGHH!" he let out a last desperate scream and he spurted his orgasm down Sawakita's throat to the sound of Sendoh's chuckling laughter.

* * *

"You good?"

"Yeah-" Rukawa massaged his wrists cautiously, as Sendoh gently helped him up.

Sawakita leaned in to apply the chapstick to his sore lips. Sendoh never did have any self-control when it came to ripping off gags. But Rukawa didn't particularly mind.

"How do you feel?"

Rukawa looked between them. "Like I have the craziest two fucking boyfriends in the country and one day you're gonna kill me."

"Ha-!" Sendoh smiled, leaned close, and kissed him, licking off all the ointment Sawakita had just applied. "Is that a complaint?"

Rukawa shrugged and tried to look sulky. "Not really."

"We went by the book-" Sawakita pointed out. "We combed through every item on your kink list like... six _million_ times."

"I noticed," Rukawa admitted. He doubted he could have orchestrated the scene more perfectly himself.

"And...?" Sendoh promoted him.

Rukawa looked between the two of them. "Thanks," he mumbled.

They beamed at him.

"Anything for our baby," Sawakita leaned over and ruffled his hair affectionately. Rukawa shrugged him off and tried to glare. The red strip of irritated skin over his mouth made the effect a little too comical.

"Next time," Sendoh promised, "my fist!"

"And did you _drug_ me?" Rukawa suddenly blurted out.

"Ah. Well. Just a bit."

He scowled. "Fuck you guys."

Sendoh only winked at him. "Sure. Anytime you want."


	4. Day 4 - Boot Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 - Boot Worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I actually didn't much like any of the Day 4 prompts, I borrowed one from Day 5.
> 
> Actually this isn't really boot worship in the proper sense but hopefully it'll be okay ^.^""

**Day 4 – Boot Worship**

Kyota was lagging behind his teammates, getting ready for the friendly game. Unusual. Everyone usually commented on his enthusiasm. He was usually the first one out the doors and onto the court. His excitement fuelling the rest of his teammates.

But today he was still only half dressed by the time the others were ready to go out and meet the opposing team.

“Are you… feeling okay?” Jin sat down beside him, large doe eyes warm with concern. “You don’t seem to be yourself.”

“I’m… fine...” Kyota promised, concentrating on slowly pulling on his socks. Putting all his attention on the white cotton, the feel of the fibres, the elasticity of the material. Anything to try and keep his mind off the upcoming game.

_And_ the raging boner in his pants.

“You look a little flushed,” Jin pointed out.

“I’m fine,” Kyota repeated, gritting his teeth a little. Taking far longer than necessary to fiddle with his footwear.

Jin frowned, unconvinced.

Maki stood up and clapped his hands for everyone’s attention. Silence fell throughout the locker room at once.

Kyota had not yet put on his headband, and so his fringe fell long over his face. He glanced up at Maki through the limp strands and had to swallow. He looked huge, standing there, above him. Everything about Maki Shinichi was strength and power and presence. Unrealistically masculine, Kyota thought to himself. It was hardly fair. That his skin was so flawless, deep, tan, and alluring. His hands were broad, fingers thick, and his thighs absolutely god-like.

_I wonder what it’s like to…_

_...be touched by those hands?_ Kyota wondered to himself, and then blushed at his own audacity.

His eyes, unseen behind his fringe, drifted to Maki’s crotch and fixed there, imagining.

Maki was not the type to strut around naked, so despite all his best efforts, Kyota still hadn’t had the pleasure of getting a proper look at Maki’s package. But he knew – he _just knew_ – that it was as thick and heavy and mouth-watering as the rest of him.

Kyota bit down hard on his lip. He really needed to think of something else. _Anything else_. After all, if this continued, he would never be able to straighten out of his bent-over posture ever again for shame. He could feel his erection pressing into his stomach and the only thing hiding it from the rest of the room was his current pose.

However, while Maki’s looming godliness was certainly not helping the situation at all, the more mortifying fact was that the cause of his boner in the first place was someone else entirely.

“Today we’re playing our friends from Shoyo,” Maki told them all in his deep rumbling pulse of an orgasmic voice.

_Shoyo._

Kyota’s dick twitched. It was really not going to be a good game for him, he already knew.

* * *

Fujima’s eyes were on him the minute he stepped out. He could feel them. Intense and searching. Crawling over his skin like a phantom. He focused on his breathing, desperate not to allow his cock to react all over again. It had taken him ages to bring it down in the locker room. Imagining stupid shit, like his gran.

Kyota ducked his head down and tried to make himself as small as possible. Fujima’s attention was arousing but also a little terrifying. Like a threat. Because Fujima was the only one who actually _knew_.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jin asked him, yet again.

“Fine,” Kyota blurted, his voice a little strained.

When the whistle blew, and the game began, things became a little easier. Fujima’s attention was diverted away from him – mostly by Maki. The two rivals clashed again and again, fiercely battling for supremacy. Closely matched in skill and athleticism, they were also remarkably different from one another.

Maki was serious, intense, like a deep pulsing force. While Fujima had a boyish joy in the way he played. In physical stature, in looks, even the hue of their skin, they could have been opposites. There was really something remarkable about the way they both matched and balanced each other out.

“They make a great couple, don’t they?” Jin commented to him as they took a break at the end of the quarter.

Kyota glanced over to see Maki and Fujima taking a quick moment to talk together, a little way away for their teams. Maki looked down at Fujima, silently listening. But there was a hunger in him. Kyota could see it. In the way he stood. The way he strained. His _want_ was obvious to the eye.

And Fujima? He danced in it. Like an imp in a ray of sunshine. Knowing Maki was his. Relishing in his own desirability.

“Yeah-” Kyota agreed. Everyone knew the two captains were a couple. It was an open secret. Though they weren’t affectionate with one another in public (not ever, if Kyota recalled correctly), everyone still knew. And in private? Well. They were _certainly_ very affectionate in private. That was how Fujima had first found out about Kyota’s little… interest.

He’d caught him. Staring through the window.

Even now Kyota blushed remembering it.

“They’re the best,” he murmured, his eyes still fixed on Maki and Fujima, his heart beating a little fast. “Really the best.”

Jin sent him a slightly quizzical look. Kyota looked away.

* * *

After the game, Kyota lingered behind, taking as long as possible in the showers, waiting for the others to all leave before him. Even Maki. Ordinarily he would have made up every excuse to linger at Maki’s side as long as possible. But today was a little different.

There was a gap in the shower wall that afforded just a sliver of a view of the shower next door, and Kyota had spent Maki’s entire shower time pressed up into the corner of his cubicle trying to catch a glimpse.

It was still his greatest regret that despite enjoying a good ten minutes of Fujima full-frontal, he’d failed to see Maki’s gorgeous member even then. Although Kyota could hardly complain, because the sight of his pistoning buttocks had been sufficiently overwhelming. Kyota had come in his hand, crouched there by the window, hearing Fujima’s passionate groaning and the deep grunt of Maki’s orgasm.

He’d been hiding in a bush. In a garden. Out of the lights of the street. With his hands in his pants and the sight of his captain fucking his rival burning into his eyes.

He sighed a little blissfully, remembering it. Even being caught by Fujima wasn’t really all the bad. Especially not now. Things being… what they were.

Kyota waited for the locker room to be empty before rapidly getting himself together and hurrying back towards the now-dark court. Everyone seemed to have gone. The building was empty. Apart from _them_.

He pushed the doors open with an eagerness that had been absent during the start of the game.

And there he was. Standing in the middle of the court, right in the centre, with his hands on his hips and a tilt of his head and his teeth brilliant white and shining in the dim light like tiger fangs.

“Good boy,” Fujima said softly, and Kyota preened.

He approached slowly, nervously, as if Fujima were a deer that might take flight. But Fujima wasn’t going anywhere. There was that strange delight in his eyes, visible despite the dimness.

Kyota drew closer, licking his lips subconsciously in anticipation. Fujima pointed at the ground.

Obediently, Kyota dropped to his knees at Fujima’s feet. He kept a little distance, because he wasn’t allowed to touch. But he was allowed to look. So he stared up eagerly into Fujima’s face.

He sat like that, hopeful and still, in the middle of the dim court. His hands still on his thighs. Patience in every aspect of his countenance.

“Did you think about him today?” Fujima asked him sweetly. “My boyfriend?”

Kyota nodded eagerly.

“And?” Fujima prompted.

“And it made me hard,” Kyota answered at once.

“And did you think about _me_?” Fujima queried, and Kyota nodded once again, his head snapping up and down as if he could not wait to respond.

“You make me hard, too,” he chirped.

It was a strange kind of arousal. This honesty. After so much stress and hiding away – to say it was liberating. Was – _hot_.

“And what do you want from me?” Fujima asked him. “Meeting me here in the dark, like this?” There was play in his voice. But it was dangerous play. It make Kyota shiver in anticipation.

“Step on me,” he requested.

Fujima scoffed. “Step where?” He shifted his weight and lifted one foot fully off the floor as if he might really take a step forward onto Kyota. “Show me your tongue.”

Kyota obeyed with a kind of eager naivety. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and let his tongue loll out like a panting dog.

Fujima put the sole of his foot squarely onto the centre of Kyota’s face.

The younger player groaned.

Fujima had remarkable balance, standing on one foot alone, his hands pushed deep into his pockets as if he were doing nothing more significant than kicking a vending machine.

Kyota, meanwhile, was in bliss.The underside of Fujima’s shoe was a little dirty. The once white rubber had turned grey. A few small stones were lodged between the thread. And all this was harsh against his tongue. Rough and odd-tasting and even a little painful.

“Lick,” Fujima told him, and Kyota obeyed. He ran his tongue in a long lavish lick from heel to toe, feeling the debris gravel-ish on his sensitive tongue.

Once done, Fujima removed his foot from Kyota’s face and put it on the floor between his thighs instead. Kyota looked down at it, like his eyes were drawn to it by strings, like it was a birthday cake.His breathing shortened, heartbeat anxiously fast.

“Have you been thinking about… _us_?” Fujima asked him softly.

“Yes. Yes!” Kyota confirmed, his eyes still fixed on Fujima’s foot.

Very slowly, and very purposefully, Fujima lifted it up and put it down firmly in the centre of Kyota’s crotch. Kyota groaned at once, the pressure on his cock sending a spasm of pleasure through his body.

“Did you think about him fucking me?” Fujima asked, very deliberately grinding his foot downwards.

Kyota whimpered a little. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to seize Fujima’s ankle and force his foot to press down harder. But he forced himself not to move. After all, he wasn’t allowed to touch.

“Well?”

“Yes. Yes – all the time!”Kyota answered, his words coming out a little garbled, harsh with his breathing.

Fujima smiled. “Tell me what you imagine.”

“Nghh-” Kyota grunted as Fujima pressed down a little harder. He parted his thighs a little wider, offering himself more to the sole of Fujima’s shoe. “His… cock,” he managed to stammer. “In you. Stretching. It’s… tight. It looks so… tight.”

“And then?”

Kyota tilted his head back, looking up at Fujima with an adoring expression. “And then you moan. Your lips. Shimmer. And your eyes. And your hair moves. Because he pushes you forward and back and forward and- and- ah!”

Fujima stepped down even harder, making sure to grind painfully right and left. Kyota’s jaw went slack, his eyes fluttered closed.

“And then?” Fujima hissed with mock impatience, leaning down a little to stare into Kyota’s slackly blissful expression.

“And then he comes,” Kyota finished. “His eyebrows crease. And he looks… like… a god.”

“You’re so pathetic,” Fujima sneered.

“Yes-” Kyota gasped at once in agreement.

“Like a dog. Humping my shoe.”

“Ngh. Ngh.” He couldn’t seem to form words.

“Thrust.”

Kyota did not have to be told twice. He set his palms flat against the floor just behind him, leaning back on them, and began to thrust his hips up against the downward pressure of Fujima’s shoe.

Fujima observed him coldly, unmoving.

It did not take long for Kyota to climax, what with Fujima’s disgusted expression, and the recollection of Maki’s intimacy with him high in his mind. He stilled, feeling the tension in him boil to a head, and then flooded his own underwear under the pressure of Fujima’s heel. It was a short, near-forced orgasm that didn’t seem to reach his mind. Something mechanical. A little disappointing. Just as Kyota liked it.

He fell back, breathless.

Fujima only lifted an eyebrow. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” Kyota croaked at him.

Fujima removed his foot and set it meaningfully down on the floor right before Kyota. Immediately, already well familiar with Fujima’s expectations, Kyota dropped forward into a bow, bringing his lips to Fujima’s shoe and kissing it sincerely. He took the chance to bring out his tongue and give it a quick lick – discretely enough that Fujima wouldn’t notice him taking such liberties.

It was nice, he thought. It was so nice that he could in that moment take just a little bit more than Fujima would have given him.

“Friday night,” Fujima spoke, and Kyota looked up at him. Fujima’s eyes were fixed on the door. Not bothered to look at Kyota, as if he wasn’t worth the effort of focusing his eyes. “Shinchi’s place.”

The way Fujima called Maki “Shinichi” always made Kyota’s stomach twist.

“I’ll leave the curtains open,” Fujima added.

“Thank you,” Kyota rasped at him.

Fujima tutted in reprimand. “Stupid,” he sneered. “I’m not doing it for you. I just want to see the stars.”

He tossed his head dismissively and strode from the court, leaving Kyota kneeling sticky in the dark.


	5. Day 5 - Double Penetration (Spit Roast)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 - Double Penetration (Spit Roast)
> 
> Sendoh x (Rukawa) x Maki - as voted for by the good people of Twitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's actually a few kinks in this one. It's a hybrid animal/human AU thing so - yeah. Please mind the tags as always.
> 
> Double penetration PLUS  
> Size difference kink and a  
> Pet kink  
> NOTE: major dubcon - it's a bit rape-y so be warned. That's all!

**Day 5 – Double Penetration (Spit Roast)**

One day, two big bad wolves caught a cute little rabbit.

They had been strolling through the forest with a hungry, bad-tempered air, when the bunny had appeared in front of them unexpectedly. Bowling out of a bush in whirlwind of feet and fur and disturbed leaves, the rabbit had been in the middle of fleeing a swooping hawk that was pursuing it under the canopy.

And Maki had stepped on it.

The little rabbit had been squashed to the ground with a helpless little puff of air and fur. Crisp autumn leaves setting all around him like dusty rain.

The hawk, upon seeing two wolves - bristling fur, yellow eyes, and dripping fangs - gave up its claim in the prey at once, and swiftly disappeared.

Sendoh the grey wolf grinned, revealing a long row of glittering white teeth. "Excellent. I'm hungry." He bent down to sniff at the little thing pinned under Maki's heavy foot.

"It's barely a mouthful," Maki the brown wolf growled back. "Let's take it home. Maybe we can make something of it." He too bent his neck down, opened his jaw wide, and scooped up the little creature between his fangs.

The rabbit struggled valiantly, kicking its tiny powerful legs and flailing its ears like a wind turbine. Maki bit down a little harder, and a little warm blood spurted into his mouth. The rabbit stilled in hurt and terror.

"Great!" Sendoh took an eager bounding leap, his four great paws like springs, shaggy tail bouncing along behind. "Let's go!"

Maki followed after him, picking up each paw at a more subdued and dignified pace, tail held high.

Now it just so happens that some of the animals in this forest have two different forms. Legend says that long ago a witch once cursed an entire village and turned all the inhabitants into animals, and their descendants still live in this forest today. Whether this is true or not, no body knows for sure. The fact remains, however, that crossing the threshold of a home will revert these affected animals into a human form.

So it was that the moment Sendoh Akira crossed into the mouth of the den, his form changed. The thick fur retreated from his body, leaving him with smooth naked flesh. The formation of his limbs altered too, such that he found it easier to walk on two legs instead of four. In short, he appeared as if he were a man. He wore no clothes, and so the muscular formation of his body clear to see. The only lingering evidence of his wolf nature was the soft grey ears at the top of his head, the shaggy tail that emerged from the base of his spine, the unnatural sharpness of his canines, and the glittering cruelty still there in his savage eyes.

Though he had the appearance of a human, he could not correctly be described as a man dressed as a wolf. It is better to say he was a wolf dressed as a man.

He was busy starting the fire, his thoughts full of nothing but rabbit stew, when Maki finally arrived with their meal.

Like Sendoh, Maki underwent the same transformation upon reaching their shared home. He was a larger wolf - and thus a larger man - than Sendoh. His shoulders broader, his skin darker, and the soft, thick organ between his legs a little more sizeable. The remaining patches of his fur were brown where Sendoh's were grey. And while his nature was perhaps a little less cruel, and a little more dignified, his eyes were equally as savage.

He intended to drop the little rabbit into his newly dexterous human hands and carry it by its legs to the cooking pot. However, something a little unexpected happened when the rabbit entered the den.

"Akira..." Maki called to his mate, examining the situation thoughtfully. "Will you look at this?"

"What?" Sendoh asked, turning around to see Maki still hanging around at the entrance to the den. "Oh..."

Laying on the floor at Maki's feet, twitching slightly, was a gorgeous boy. It was pale and silky, the colour of the moon. Long limbs and delicate features and thin flesh on scrawny bones. It lay panting on its side, apparently dazed, blue eyes a little glassy with pain and fright. There was a wound in his side, still leaking red blood over white skin. Two long yellow ears flopped softly from his head. And set just above the sweet curve of its buttocks, a soft puff of white down.

The two wolves stared at it.

Although it was still not quite as large as them, it was now very close to their size. Not merely a normal rabbit, it seemed. One of the cursed descendants, just like them.

Maki put his fingers to his lips in careful consideration of this unexpected turn of events. "More to eat," he determined eventually.

Sendoh, his jaw gone a little slack in astonishment, looked up and stared at him. "What-? We can't _eat_ it!"

"Why not?"

"It's a hybrid! Same as us!"

"It's a _rabbit_ ," Maki pointed out with a frown. "What else are we supposed to do with it?"

Sendoh frowned, coming over to look down at the boy laying prone at Maki's feet. "I'm- not sure," he admitted.

* * *

The rabbit-boy had a simple nature. Once given a little time to recover from its shock, and once Sendoh had gently sealed the wound in its side with grass gauze, it grew more active and curious about the wolves' den.

It began to move around, exploring, its ears pricked up in curiosity, nose twitching. It started getting into things. Knocking over pots. The two wolves sat by the fire, forcing down bland vegetable stew that was notably absent of rabbit meat, watching it.

"I guess we now have a pet," Maki pointed out in a mild, stoic tone.

"Mm," Sendoh replied noncommittally, watching the rabbit sniff around. It had a certain twitchiness that lifted Sendoh's natural instincts to chase, pin it hold, and drag it between his teeth. "A pet needs a name," he said eventually. "We found it in the leaves. How about... _Kouyou_ (紅葉) ?"

"Sounds nicer as _Momiji (_ 紅葉)" Maki muttered between mouths of soup.

Sendoh wrinkled his nose. "Well if it's _Momiji_ then let's call it... _Kaede_ (楓)."

Maki nodded carelessly, "Fine."

The rabbit – now _Kaede_ \- continued to act as if the wolves were not there. A logical deduction and a necessary bit of mind block. After all, it had not yet been killed and eaten. So it figured it better explore and try to find more ways to survive.

Unfortunately, despite the similarities in the hybrids' physical human forms, wolves could not talk to rabbits. Perhaps the rabbit could speak together with its own kind. Perhaps it already had a name. Perhaps it was a great orator and a rabbit of great renown. Perhaps it were even a tiny rabbit king. But to Sendoh and Maki, little Kaede was just silent.

"He’s kind of cute," Sendoh commented.

Maki sniffed disinterestedly and took another bland mouthful of soup.

The rabbit's long questing fingers caused several stacked logs for the fire to suddenly go clattering to the floor.

"Ok, that's enough," Sendoh decided, with a soft growl. He stood up and stalked over to Kaede, reaching out to grab him by the long ears and drag him back to the fireside.

Kaede tried to protest, kicking his legs and digging in his heels. But while similar in size, the wolf was far stronger, and soon the rabbit had been subdued face down on the floor, squashed under Sendoh's feet. The wolf's long toenails dug a little into the milky flesh of its back as he pinned it down like it were a footstool.

Maki stared down at it thoughtfully.

It really was a beautiful thing, he noticed, now that he could see it from up close and as it was in no immediate danger of being devoured. Its skin seemed to glow in the firelight like warm butter. It had black inky hair that fell over expressive blue eyes. Its eyelashes were exquisite, and its face wholly pleasing. Maki had never taken the time to look closely at a rabbit before. Not one that was still alive, at any rate.

It seemed surprisingly... aware. A real thing. With thoughts. And ideas. And dreams. Though Maki had no way of knowing what they could be, there was an intelligence in its eyes that surprised him a little.

Perhaps it shouldn't have been so strange. Hybrids were more complex than their basic animal types on account of the small sliver of human nature they retained.

The rabbit was likely just as intelligent as they were. Although, Maki had to admit, it did seem a little... simple.

Maki reached out a curious hand to touch it. Its body was trembling a little. Tiny quivers running through its muscles. But despite this, it had a certain calmness in its expression. Perhaps it really was stupid after all. Maki took its chin and tilted its face up curiously.

Silent blue eyes looked up at him. Though they had no way to communicate with words, there was something in his gaze that tugged strangely at Maki's heart. Poor little innocent, trapped under wolfish claws. Maki compulsively licked his lips. Kaede continued to look at him with simple interest as Maki ran one sharp claw-like nail over Kaede's soft pale lips.

"What are you doing?" Sendoh asked.

"Just looking at him,” Maki replied.

"Feel his skin. It's really soft," Sendoh advised.

Maki leaned over and put his hand on Kaede’s bare back - the part that was exposed between Sendoh's two feet. Kaede shivered at his touch. It looked like bare flesh, but it felt like silken fur. Maki trailed his hand along its spine, marvelling at the softness of its body. He brushed it tenderly, his hand moving back and forth, until the rabbit relaxed and closed its eyes.

"He likes that," Sendoh noticed.

"Mm," Maki acknowledged, continuing to stroke the creature gently.

Sendoh flicked his ears in interest. "Let's play with him," he suggested, tail lifting high. "And see what else he likes."

They soon had Kaede crouching between them on the floor. They rolled him, putting their hands on his naked shoulders and hips, rolling him one way and then the next, from his stomach onto his back, and then back again. The rabbit quivered silently and submitted to their torment, as if recognising that he was caught and defenceless. A limp toy at their mercy.

When they tired of this dogish game, they smelt him all over curiously. Maki sniffed at the silken mop of Kaede’s hair, pushing his nose right inside and familiarising himself with the scent. Sendoh lifted one of Kaede’s long, slim legs and examined it curiously. The rabbit was on its back, belly up, in a posture that appealed naturally to the wolves internal sense of hierarchy. A position that meant submission.

"His feet are kind of big," Sendoh pointed out, observing the pale milky toes and supple calf as he turned it this way and that. "Don't you think?"

Maki glanced over. "Yeah. But his cock is tiny."

Sendoh's eyes immediately went to the small organ between the rabbit's legs. As Maki had said, it was really very small. When Sendoh compared it to his own substantial appendage, it was a little amusing.

He dropped his face close to the rabbit's genitals and sniffed curiously. "He doesn't smell like a wolf."

Maki gave him a dead pan stare. " _Really_?"

Sendoh frowned. "I'm just saying," he said defensively. "He smells... weird. But kind of good."

He stared down at the prone and naked creature for a while longer. Tracing the scrawny muscles in its chest. The shape of its ribs. The gentle arch of its exposed neck, pulsing warmth.

And then the thought struck him.

He looked up suddenly.

"What is it?" Maki asked, suspicious.

A slow grin wound its way across Sendoh's face, his canines glinting under his lip. "I just thought of something we can do with him."

"What?" Maki asked, curious. But Sendoh only continued to grin at him. Slowly, the meaning seemed to dawn on Maki. His eyes widened a little. "No..." he said slowly. "He’s too small. You'll hurt him."

"He’s nearly the same size as us!” Sendoh protested. “Come on. Let's just try," he insisted playfully. "We'll stop if he doesn't like it."

"Of course he won't like it."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you're a dog! Your penis has a _knot_. If you knot him up you'll _break_ him!"

"I won't do that!" Sendoh exclaimed, as if offended. "I'll be very careful," he promised.

He turned his eyes back down to the body laying prone beneath him. Now that he was contemplating it seriously, the rabbit did perhaps look a little bit small. He felt a tinge of worry, but then pushed it to the back of his mind.

"It'll be fine. Hold him down, will you?"

Sex was not a moral issue to them. It was a simple biological need. Eating the rabbit, or fucking it. There was little distinction. Each had a purpose. Each was a right they had. Neither was wrong. It just was. They really were more animal than human, after all.

Maki frowned, looking a little reluctant, but then took the rabbit's wrists in his hands and pulled them up over the rabbit's head. He kneeled directly on each hand, pining them hard against the floor. The rabbit only looked up at him in silent offence.

_I wasn't resisting,_ his large beautiful eyes seemed to say. _So why..?_

_Sorry_ , Maki told him silently.

Sendoh pushed Kaede’s legs apart, settling himself between them, and then ran his claws down the rabbit's soft stomach with a long raking motion, causing the rabbit to squirm a little.

Sendoh’s instincts stirred in a powerful wave. He could not hold back the grin from his lips, his eyes suddenly flashing yellow and cruel, his fangs glinting like razors. Something deep in him wanted to slice that white quivering gut right open, and spill him across the floor. Another part knew it would be more rewarding to resist.

He put his claws around Kaede's tiny cock instead and gave it a gentle pump, letting his knife-like nails scratch the Kaede's skin. It reacted at once, hardening in his grip, although it hardly grew any bigger at all.

_So small_ , Sendoh reflected, amused. _Cute little thing._

He brought down his head and closed his teeth around it gently.

Kaede bucked hard.

Sendoh did not pull away. His tongue was large enough to wrap almost entirely around the tiny cock, rubbing its full length. He suckled and slurped, pulling a little aggressively on the small organ.

The rabbit had begun to shake. Maki wondered if it understood what was about to happen to it.

Sendoh's fingers went down to Kaede's entrance and played there, gently sliding over the small hole, occasionally allowing his claw to catch on the rim.

Kaede turned silent eyes upwards, to fix on Maki’s face with a pleading expression.

Maki frowned and glanced over at Sendoh, recognising the dark, intense arousal growing in his lover’s face, and bit back any comment. Something like this wasn't worth fighting with his mate over. After all, it was just a rabbit.

_Sorry, bunny_ , he thought. _This is the way it is._

Sendoh’s finger breached the rabbit’s tight hole and Kaede gasped. The first noise he had made.

“There you go,” Sendoh crooned, his voice a low and soothing rumble in his chest. “Like that, do you?”

Kaede wriggled on his back, still pinned down by Maki and skewered on Sendoh’s thick forefinger.

Maki frowned. “Maybe we shouldn't,” he said cautiously. "You'll hurt him."

“Why?” Sendoh wanted to know. “He likes it.” He looked down into Kaede’s face, noting the way the rabbit’s chest was rising and falling in short gasps, his parted lips and wide eyes. “Don’t you, bunny?” he moved his finger in and out purposefully.

Of course Kaede remained silent, his legs twitching compulsively, his eyes still wide and fixed on Maki with some dark meaning.

“Look at this-” Sendoh pointed out, drawing Maki’s attention to Kaede’s seeping cock. It was dribbling thin translucent lines of pleasure over the rabbit’ quivering stomach. “I think our little Kaede is a very horny little rabbit, don’t you?”

“Well...” Maki frowned, doubtfully.

“Haven’t you heard the phrase _fucking like rabbits_?” Sendoh asked, dark amusement in his face. “He’s _made_ for this.”

Maki still did not look convinced, and Sendoh rolled his eyes. “I'm telling you, he _likes_ it. Why don’t you release his hands? See for yourself.”

Maki considered this for a moment, and then very slowly lifted himself up so that Kaede’s pinned arms were released from the pressure under his knees. The rabbit drew his arms back down towards his body at once – obviously Maki’s weight had hurt him - but other than that, he made no attempt to escape Sendoh’s finger still filling him.

“You see?” Sendoh said. “He _wants_ it. Look at the way he’s watching you. He’s practically begging.”

Maki hesitated. “Or perhaps he’s just stupid,” he suggested. “And he just doesn’t know what you’re doing to him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sendoh scoffed. “He’s not stupid; he’s _honest._ It feels good. He likes it. He wants it. It's simple.”

Kaede whimpered quietly as Sendoh pushed a second finger into his body. Kaede spontaneously spread his thighs a little wider and bucked his hips hopefully.

“See?” Sendoh pointed out. “Go _on_ ,” he insisted.

So Maki bent down, bringing his face close to Kaede’s curiously. Kaede watched him all the while, eyes still wide and wondering. He seemed so very innocent. So very trusting.

Maki pressed his lips against the rabbit’s softly. It was very gentle, and very pure. Kaede trembled and parted his lips in offering, allowing Maki to push his tongue inside the hot cavity of his mouth.

“Mmm,” Maki hummed in the back of his throat. He soon found that Kaede tasted absolutely delicious. A starving wolf who'd suffered through nothing but weak soup for dinner would have been hard pressed to find a taste more wonderful than this squirmy little rabbit right now. Wolfish saliva flowed into the rabbit’s mouth with each thirsty lap of Maki’s tongue as he savoured the taste, licking up each and every inch of Kaede's inner mouth in ravenous sweeps.

Soon, Maki felt fingers – long, thin fingers - reaching up and twisting into his hair, fiddling curiously with his ears. Kaede’s hands gripped at him, seeking his kiss, widening his mouth and sucking at Maki’s tongue.

_Wow_ , Maki tried to remember to breathe. His fingers drifted to his own arousal, suddenly large and throbbing between his legs. He began to tease himself as he continued to plunder Kaede’s mouth.

“I’m going to fuck him,” Sendoh’s voice made Maki finally break the kiss and look up. The rabbit’s body lay open between them, legs and arms spread wide, a wolf at his head and a wolf between his legs. Taking adorable panting breaths. Tiny cock twitching.

“Are you sure you won’t hurt him?” Maki worried.

“I’ll keep the knot outside.”

“Even so...” Maki’s eyes dropped to Sendoh’s erection. It was intimidating, to say the least. Especially compared to Kaede’s small member.

“I’ll go slow,” Sendoh casually dismissed his concerns.

Sendoh did not want to discuss further, so he put his large hands upon Kaede’s hips and lifted his lower body from the floor. He shuffled in closer, positioning himself, ready to lower Kaede onto his cock. “Here we go-”

He pushed slowly forward, and at the same time, dragged Kaede down, connecting them inch by inch. The acrid scent of blood hit Maki’s nose at once.

“You’re hurting him,” Maki snarled.

"It's _fine_ ," Sendoh growled back.

Between them, Kaede did not protest. His eyes were pointed down the length of his body, watching Sendoh blankly as the wolf slowly penetrated him. He had the same vacant look on his face. As if he were watching something mildly interesting, and not his own body being split into two.

“Tight-” Sendoh gritted out through his teeth, squeezing his eyes closed.

Kaede’s breathing slowly became harsher and more laboured as Sendoh went deeper, and Maki found himself reaching out instinctively, wanting to provide him with some distraction. Maki pressed three fingers into the rabbit's slack mouth, and he felt Kaede begin to suckle on them at once, as if seeking comfort.

“Good,” Sendoh hissed softly from the other end of his body. “This is – _good_.”

He drew back his hips slowly, and the blood-smell heightened a little. Then he pushed back in with a smoother glide.

Maki’s eyes widened to see a bulge in Kaede’s flat stomach and Sendoh’s cock distended him from the inside. “Be gentle,” he reminded him anxiously.

“I’m trying,” Sendoh gritted.

Maki looked down into Kaede’s face. The rabbit’s eyes had lifted back to Maki's face, a calm trust in his expression even as Sendoh continued to move in and out. But there was sweat on his brow, and his mouth continued to suck and suck on Maki's fingers a little anxiously.

Maki stroked his long ears, and Kaede seemed to like that, his eyelashes fluttering delicately against his cheeks.

_Beautiful little thing,_ Maki thought silently.

Gradually, Sendoh worked up his pace, until each trust had become a slam. A violent snapping of hips and a melody of skin hitting skin.

Maki watched, feeling himself get hotter and hotter. He considered going to Sendoh's back and penetrating his mate from behind. But somehow he was reluctant to leave Kaede's sweet little nodding head, cushioned there between his thighs as he was dragged back and forth over the ground by Sendoh's rough thumps. Maki's own erection lay neglected across Kaede's damp cheek, a little tangled in his silken hair.

He frowned.

He realised he didn't much like watching Sendoh having all the fun.

"Akira-?" he interrupted finally.

"Mmm-" Sendoh replied distractedly, his eyes closed and face turned skyward and as drew his pleasure from the rabbit's welcoming body.

"Do you really think you can keep him all for yourself?"

Sendoh's pace slowed a little at Maki's unexpected words. He lowered his chin and cracked open one eye to observe Maki sitting there, erection forlorn, his hands tangled in Kaede's long ears.

"Not long ago you were gonna eat him," Sendoh pointed out cheekily.

Maki's eyebrows dipped in annoyance. A growl worked its way up his throat. A little warning noise to remind Sendoh of his superiority.

But Sendoh did not want to surrender his place. Not even to the alpha.

"Let's turn him around," Sendoh offered instead. "You can take his mouth."

Maki looked doubtful. "He's too small-"

"So you keep saying," Sendoh grinned, showing his teeth. "But look at him."

Maki glanced down again. Kaede's eyes were still fixed trustingly upon him, but he'd parted his lips slightly, his little tongue just visible. For a moment it really looked as if he was offering the cavity of his mouth for Maki's use. Perhaps it was coincidence. And yet...

"Do you think he understands what we're saying?" Maki asked in confusion.

Sendoh shrugged, "Who knows? Now, over you go." His large hands seized Kaede's waist and with very little effort he lifted and rotated the rabbit fully around, still skewered on his cock, until it was on hands and knees. The rabbit's body was so light it seemed to be made of nothing but paper.

The poor little thing tensed up, doubtless feeling all over again the length and reach of Sendoh's massive organ pressing up in new ways within his depths.

Sendoh grabbed the rabbit's long ears in one hand and pulled back his head a little roughly, forcing his back into a beautiful arch that had Maki's guts grinding against one another. Small beautiful thing. Pale and delicate and perfect, with its little panting mouth and trusting eyes. Slim waist, tensed fingers, willing and vulnerable. Maki wanted nothing quite so much as to ruin it. Fill it right up with cum.

"All right," he rose to his knees and drew close to its face. Kaede's mouth was still open, and he lowered his jaw as far as it could go as Maki seized his erection and pushed it carefully between the teeth. The rabbit's eyes gazed up at him in what seemed like such powerful, silent adoration that Maki felt, for a short moment, a strange tenderness for the sweet little thing.

But then Sendoh grinned and thrust forward, sending the rabbit-boy thumping face first into Maki's stomach, breaking the shared moment. Maki's sizeable cock was forced deep into its throat and the rabbit spluttered in surprise and fear. Even Maki exclaimed at the sudden motion. But Sendoh pulled back immediately, his harsh grip on the rabbit's ears also dragging the rabbit's mouth back out along Maki's shaft.

"How's that?" Sendoh asked his mate.

Maki lifted his yellow eyes. The momentary tenderness was gone. "Do it again."

Sendoh let out a bark like a laugh, and began to thrust. Between the two wolves, the little rabbit was overwhelmed. Crushed between two rocks as they each closed upon him at the same time, skewering him in the middle, filling up every gap, every inch. He felt sure the two cocks must meet in the middle of his body. Tears fell from his eyes, squeezed out of him by Maki's powerful pistoning cock, stretching his jaw wide. There was no room in him. Not even for tears.

Above him, Maki reached out a hand to grab Sendoh's shoulder, steadying himself as they continued to fuck in rhythm. Sendoh lowered his head a little, a natural response to Maki's closeness. And Maki took the opportunity to claim him, leaning forward over the spitted rabbit as far as he could to kiss his lips. Sendoh opened his mouth obediently. They stilled a little out of necessity as Maki's tongue filled Sendoh's mouth, and the rabbit was granted a moment of comparative reprieve for it. The cocks in him slowed into distracted stillness as the wolves wrestled with one another. Still stretching him beyond his limits, and yet no longer thrusting as if seeking to break him in two. He breathed noisily through his nose - his mouth fully blocked by Maki's cock - and barely even noticed the saliva dripping onto his back as it dribbled from Sendoh's chin above.

But when the wolves broke their kiss, things began all over again. They syncopated their rhythm this time, so that Kaede was left with the sensation of being on a boat, passed between one and the other, rocking back and forth in a continual, dizzying fashion. Pushed forward into Maki's stomach, and then dragged back onto Sendoh's cock. They seemed as if to form one single rod passing the whole way through his body, along the length of which he was simply being dragged. Further forward, or further back. But never released. Not for even a single moment was he not being stretched and penetrated and ruined. His hands began to tremble helplessly beneath him, but Sendoh still held him up by the ears, and any limpness in Kaede's arms only resulted in a harsher pain as his tortured ears took more of his weight.

He felt sure he could not possibly take anymore. And yet they went faster. Merciless. They must have known each other well, because they read each other's rhythm perfectly, slamming out and in at a perfect tempo.

Kaede spluttered and cried and felt like he must have died a thousand times, before Sendoh's sharp claws reached down to pump playfully at his cock, and then Kaede lost contact with the world as he was coming in wave after wave after wave, the orgasm pumped out of him by Sendoh's weighty cock. The wolves did not slow. They fucked him all the way through his orgasm and out the other side again. He went utterly limp, no longer caring that Sendoh was holding him up, his body pegged upon the two wolf cocks made into one rod like he'd been tossed out on the washing line to dry. He couldn't have collapsed and sunk to the floor even if he'd wanted to. They kept him skilfully balanced between them. Their perfect little plaything.

"Don't - you - knot him!" Maki managed to growl as he finally felt his orgasm rushing up upon him, his own knot started to inflate with abrupt suddenness.

"Speak for yourself," Sendoh gritted back.

Skewered one way and then the other way, Kaede felt the building of the wolves' release. They moved with less coordination now, sometimes alternating with one another, sometimes thrusting in together so that Kaede could no longer prepare himself for the onslaught. He no longer had any strength to coordinate himself either, however, and so he hung, merely a rag upon the rod, thrown one way and the other without much care.

They growled as they came, a rumbling sound that drove fear instinctively through his mind. He was not built to tolerate the terror of wolves, and yet what response was there except to drink in down. Except to feel. Except to merely exist between them. Floating. Pushed beyond his own pleasure and into something even larger, greater, and more powerful still. His consciousness faded with the hot pulsing of their come. His eyes closing. Surrender? Perhaps.

Perhaps they were done with him now. Perhaps he would never wake. For it was a stupid little rabbit who offered himself to hungry wolves.

* * *

As it as, however, Kaede did not need to fear what they would do to him after he passed out. Because, fully spent and completely exhausted, they merely curled around him, one on each side, pressing against him as if he were a treasure to be guarded.

"No one is gonna eat you," Maki whispered to him sleepily, his fingers trailing down his spine. "Ever."

Sendoh hummed quietly in agreement. "The first hawk to dare try a swoop will have my teeth in its neck."

"We'll protect you," Maki promised.

"Forever," Sendoh agreed.

They shuffled a little closer, pressing the beautiful moon rabbit a little tighter between their bodies.

"Do you think we need to get him some sort of... collar?" Sendoh wondered aloud. His fist closed over the tiny puff of Kaede's white tail and stroked it lovingly. "So he don't get lost?"

"Maybe..." Maki murmured sleepily.

"What should we feed him? What do rabbits eat? He can't just live off your cum, you know."

Maki gave an indistinct sleepy groan.

Sendoh's fingers roamed a little more, dancing over the pale flesh, the colour of the moon. He looked like magic, laying there. Something so precious and sweet. "I'm so glad we got a pet," Sendoh said at last with a yawn.

"Me too," Maki mumbled. "Me too."


	6. Day 6 - Free Use

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 - Free use (Haruko?! x Rukawa)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a total cop-out chapter. It's not even pornographic. It's got like... feelings. Ew.
> 
> My first time writing (wtf?) Haruko x Rukawa (with a brief side serving of Mitsui x Rukawa).
> 
> You just gotta trust me on the Haruko thing. Jump! Jump! Jump! I'll catch you! Promise!

**Day 6 - “Free Use”**

Haruko Akagi followed Sakuragi down the basement staircase nervously. She could already near music thumping up from the underground room below them. She balanced a little unsteadily on her heels.

“Are you sure that-” she began, for about the twentieth time.

“I’m sure! Come on!” Sakuragi led her onwards.

They were in their final year of university together, and had been dating for several months. They'd known each other for years before that. But it was still a little bewildering to Haruko that Sakuragi had accepted Mitsui’s invitation to visit this club.

She’d never been to a sex club before.

“Mitsui said he’s got a little surprise for you,” Sakuragi had told her.

_Yeah_ , she wondered in complete confusion. _But what?_

As far as she knew, Sakuragi hadn’t been here before either. But then again, he didn’t always tell her everything. He had a rough aspect to his life – still associating with Mitsui Hisashi and Yohei Mito and who knew what other untold questionable characters. She accepted that part of him. But sometimes she did sort of wonder.

“I can’t wait for you to see it,” Sakuragi enthused excitedly, as they passed the bouncer and went into the club itself. All around people were dancing, drinking, grinding. People who were dressed in far less clothing than Haruko. She flushed in embarrassment as a topless woman brushed past her, heading for the bar.

“Uhm, Hanamichi-? Maybe, uh-” she had a vague expression of horror on her face.

He seized her hand. “It’s okay. Mitsui always has a private room, at the back.” He began to pull her along through the throng.

Mitsui was indeed sitting in his usual room. He looked suave, Haruko noticed reluctantly as they entered, sitting with a wine glass in his hand, a well cut modern suit, and a smirk. He was well put together. Doing well for himself. 

By his feet was something large, covered over with a velvet sheet. It seemed about the size of a suitcase. Haruko’s eyes lingered on it for a short moment, but she was distracted when Mitsui rose gracefully from his seat and opened his arms in welcome. Behind them, assistants silently closed the door of the room, muffling a little of the thumping beat, and remaining respectfully outside.

“My friends,” Mitsui smiled.

“Mittchi!” Sakuragi went forward and embraced him cheerfully. Haruko hung back a little, uncertain. Since Mitsui had left high school, he had not attended university but become something of an entrepreneur. He owned a few seedy establishments now. Ranging from sex shops to clubs to an escort service. Sakuragi had promised her that he wasn’t a pimp, but Haruko had some doubts about that.

“I’m glad to see you two together, finally,” Mitsui grinned. “Wedding bells in the air?”

Sakuragi blushed a deep red. “Oh, _no_.” He spluttered. “N-n-not yet!”

“But how old are you now?” Mitsui questioned, turning his attention to Haruko.

“Twenty-one,” she replied, a little tense.

Mitsui smiled. “Well, that’s just perfect.”

_Perfect for what?_ Haruko half wondered.

“Are you going to show her?” Sakuragi was excited about whatever the “surprise” was supposed to be.

Mitsui touched his chin thoughtfully, thumb slipping habitually over the small scar, rubbing it like a lucky rabbit’s foot. “Well,” he said slowly. “This is only at Sakuragi’s special request. I don’t normally give anyone this level of exclusivity. I'm worried it might be a little overwhelming for him. But I asked, and he agreed, so..." he trailed off with a small shrug.

Haruko frowned a little, confused. _Him?_

Mitsui sent her a reassuring smile. “But I heard you had something of a… _history_. Perhaps you’d like to finally take the chance to… take a little something from him. If you like.”

Haruko frowned even more deeply, the words making no sense to her. She looked instead at Sakuragi who was practically hopping from foot to foot in unrestrained excitement. “Hanamichi?” she asked, feeling a little apprehensive. “What is he talking about?”

Mitsui stepped close to the covered lump on the floor, and gently took a hold of the velvet material.

“You won’t _believe_ this,” Sakuragi told her.

Her eyes followed the cloth as Mitsui dragged it away to reveal what was underneath.

The first thing she saw was a back. Muscled and strong. Hunched over into a curl, facing away from her, head tucked between knees. Breathing slow and long. It was a man. Of that she had no doubt. He wore some sort of harness across his chest. And some buckles had been fastened at the back of his head that she guessed must be some sort of gag. He wore a leather thong, mere string, that went up through the crack of his buttocks and around his narrow hips.

Her eyebrows furrowed in intense confusion. _What on earth?_

“Kaede, greet my friends,” Mitsui told the man softly.

She froze.

The man did as he was told, lifting his head until Haruko realised she really really was looking at that same silken black hair and pale, haunting complexion that had been the source of so many of her teenaged fantasies.

He turned to face them, limbs uncurling. His blue eyes – still so beautiful – moved over them impassively. From Sakuragi’s overexcited expression, to Haruko with her hands over her mouth in shock. Then he dropped his head, putting it right to the floor in a bow, and remained there.

“W- w- w- what?” Haruko stammered in complete disbelief.

Mitsui pushed his hands into his pockets and looked pleased with himself. “Rukawa Kaede has been my property for a few years now.”

“Your- your _property?_ ” she stammered in disbelief.

“Oh yes,” Mitsui eyed her for a moment, seeing the doubt and the judgment in her eyes. He frowned at her expression. “It is completely consensual, you know," he said, as if any suggestion to the contrary were a personal insult.

She blushed a deep shade of red, knowing that she was being rebuked. “Oh. Is- is it now?”

“ _Yes_.” Mitsui confirmed, his voice a little cold.

“Isn’t it crazy?” Sakuragi was hovering near her now, excited to see her reaction. “Don’t you think so? Who would have thought that stupid fox would end up somebody’s sex slave?” he began to laugh. “I always said he was no good. And now you have proof!”

Haruko turned her eyes upon her boyfriend. To her own surprise, she found that there were tears in them. Something about seeing him there - kneeling, bowing, gagged, enslaved, made a fierce emotion arise in her chest. “Is that why you bought me here?” she demanded, suddenly feeling hot and overwhelmed. “To make yourself feel good? You just want me to look down on him? You want to shame him in front of me?”

Sakuragi paused mid-laugh. “Uh-”

It became obvious that that was pretty much exactly what he had intended. He had wanted to horrify Haruko into condemning that bastard fox forever, banishing him from her mind once and for all. Except, something had gone wrong. Because now she was crying a bit, and she was angry with him, and he didn’t really know why.

She spun around to Mitsui, and her anger and recklessness were visible in her face. “Earlier,” she said to Mitsui. “You said I could _take_ something from him. What did you mean?”

Sakuragi stepped forward as if to interrupt. “Hey now,” he said worriedly. “There’s no need for-”

“Kaede is for free use,” Mitsui explained silkenly to her, ignoring Sakuragi’s protest. “I normally take him out onto the main floor for use by any of our esteemed visitors. It is his pleasure to do as commanded. To serve whoever wants to make use of his body. And it is _my_ pleasure to… watch.”

Haruko blushed. 

"But for today, I have kept him for your sole personal use," Mitsui continued.

“Are you saying that I can…?”

“Yes,” Mitsui confirmed before she had even finished the thought. “You can do whatever you wish. His cock. His mouth. His ass. They’re all yours, if you want. I will stay nearby, to ensure he is not unfortunately abused.” His eyes moved up and down Haruko thoughtfully. “But a little girl like you – I doubt you could do anything at all to hurt him.”

“W- w- wait!” Sakuragi lifted his hands. “What about me?”

Mitsui turned smiling eyes onto Sakuragi. “ _Free use_ , Hanamichi. If you want to make use of him, perhaps it can be arranged...” his eyes flickered back to Haruko, “...but I thought we had already agreed that this session was for the young lady? And besides, Kaede has only consented to her. Not to you."

Sakuragi frowned deeply. “Yes, well. I don’t really think that my _girlfriend_ ought to...”

“I want him,” Haruko interrupted. Her voice was quiet but decisive. Cutting Sakuragi’s words like a knife. “I want to… use him.” Her eyes were still fixed on Kaede’s submissive posture, something untold churning in her irises.

“You _what?!_ ” Sakuragi all but exploded.

“I...” Haruko looked up at Mitsui. “Please let me… touch him.”

“Now hold on a minute-!” Sakuragi took a step forward.

Mitsui waved a hand, and immediately a number of bouncers appeared and began to usher Sakuragi out. They were all large, powerful men. Clearly used to managing troublemakers, for they successfully managed to get Sakuragi out of the room in mere moments.

Mitsui, Haruko, and Rukawa Kaede, were the only people left.

Mitsui lifted a hand to indicate Rukawa. “He’s all yours,” he said. “You only need to give him an instruction, and he will obey so long as it is within his power. Please feel free to remove anything from his body that you don’t need. And don’t mind me, I am very discrete. Now, do enjoy.”

He drifted away to the side of the room, sat down on a plush chair, pulled out his phone and began to play Candy Crush.

Haruko stood and stared. Rukawa did not move, still bowed before her, his head to the ground.

Had he really... consented to this? To... _her?_

Uncertainly, she drifted closer, until her small feet stopped right before him. “Kaede-kun?” she asked him uncertainly. There was no response.

She crouched down. “Will you… look at me?”

He moved at once, as if he were programmed to respond to commands, straightening from his bow and meeting her eyes silently. A large rectangular slab of leather pressed hard over his mouth, silencing him. She shivered a little. He continued to stare at her, almost unblinking.

“Do you really… enjoy this?” she asked him. She gestured to the room. "This place? This... _free use?_ "

He did not respond.

“Please answer yes or no,” she said.

Very slowly, he nodded.

Tears began to shimmer once again in her eyes. She sniffled, and lifted her sleeve to try and wipe them away. “Then I’m – glad,” she told him. “I’m so glad that you’re happy. You _are_ happy, right?"

He did not seem to know what to do. It had not really been a question requiring an answer. But eventually, he nodded again anyway.

Haruko smiled through her tears.

They only looked at each other for a few minutes longer. There was a gap of some three years in their memories. Haruko had last seen Rukawa on the last day of high-school. She hadn’t known what he was planning to do next. For some reason she’d… never asked. She wondered why. Perhaps it had been too frightening a thing to think of him existing somewhere. Without her. Beyond her. At that time she… she had cared so much.

And even now she couldn’t help this bitter-sweetness in her chest. It was a forever thing. Perhaps.

She sniffled again.

Very slowly, she reached out her hand. Rukawa did not move away or flinch. She tried to ask with her eyes, but he gave her no response at all.

Finally, unable to resist, she set her palm on his bare shoulder.

His skin was cool. Smooth. Tactile.

She swallowed and stroked his shoulder, just a bit. He only waited.

“Do you… mind?” she asked him nervously. He didn’t bother to respond. It was, she suspected, a stupid question.

She let her fingers trail down his arms, disbelieving. Admiring the muscles. Feeling his strength. She had so often dreamed of this. What it would be like to touch him. To have him hold her. It was a little dizzying.

She forced herself to breathe. Her fingers were trembling by the time she summoned enough courage to touch his chest. She could feel the small rise and fall of his breathing there, under her fingertips. She struggled to bring these two things together – this physical body, here, and real, under her touch, - and the boy in her mind. The boy who was more spirit than human. The boy who would fly. Untouchable. Like pins in her heart. It was a mental leap she couldn’t seem to make.

Her fingers brushed lower, curious, trailing over the abs of his stomach. She traced every cut, every line, astonished by how soft and velvety his skin was, while beneath felt hard as rock. Her cheeks were flushed by now. She squeezed her thighs together tightly and tried not to think about her own growing wetness. It just wouldn’t do. It just wouldn’t do at all.

Her eyes lifted suddenly to meet his blue ones. He still watched her. After all, she realised, she had not given him permission to look away. He was like a gentle giant – huge and strong and yet silently tolerant of her childish curiosity.

She hesitantly bought up her hands, putting them on his face, sliding her fingertips along the edge of the gag. There was something frighteningly intimate about this simple touching. The hard leather made such contrast to the softness of his cheeks, it was almost unbearable.

“I want to take this off,” she confessed to him.

For a moment he gave no reaction. After all, it had not been a command, nor a question. Just a statement. But eventually he seemed to realise that something was required of him, and he slowly dipped his head to her. He knelt on the floor like that – his two large hands splayed before his knees, his back curved to lower his head down to the level of her chest. Low enough for her to be able to reach the two metal buckles that held the gag in place at the back of his head.

Her hands shook as she undid them. She struggled a little to loosen the tight leather, but eventually they came apart in her hands and the leather plate slipped down from Rukawa’s lips to reveal his full, handsome face. She put her hand under his chin and lifted his face until he was looking right at her. He did as she requested, head moving smoothly, eyes focusing on her to the exclusion of everything else in the room.

He was exactly as she remembered him. In her dreams. Somewhere deep in heart.

Her lips trembled a little as they stared at one another. She had never been this close to him before. Never.

She took a breath.

“Kiss me,” she requested in a sudden rush. “Like you mean it," she added.

To her absolute astonishment, he did precisely as she said. Moving forward so quickly it shocked her, pressing his lips against hers with force. He tilted his head, avoiding butting their noses together, and moved his lips against hers.

She froze. _Oh my god ohmygodohmygod._

For a moment she thought she had died. She must have died and gone to heaven because this couldn’t… _couldn’t_ … be real.

His hands encircled her waist, holding her, and she melted against his bare chest in a stupefied disbelief. Her hands pressed again the skin of his chest, the heat working its way up through her like a furnace.

She was utterly powerless to his touch. As if no time had gone by at all. As if she were fifteen again and standing by the court watching him play. She had thought she had dug the thorn of her first love out of her heart long ago. But it seemed the roots went deep.

Before the kiss could accelerate, she broke away. Rukawa only watched her silently. Expecting her touch. Her decisions and her control.

She could do _anything_ , she thought then. It was... _wild_. Even to imagine. Even to believe. What had Mitsui said to her? His cock. His mouth. His ass. All yours.

_All yours_.

She could _take_ something from him. Things she'd so badly wanted, for so, so very long.

She lifted her hand and brought it close to his crotch. Just an inch above the leather covering. It was already peaked, erect, as if reaching out towards her, asking for her hand. She paused, her hand hovering there. He watched her. Silent. Silent. Silent.

But, she thought, it wasn’t really… _her_. He wasn’t looking at _her_. Not really. Not as such.

It was one body, against another body. Something sexual. Physical. That was what he sought. It didn’t matter that it was her, or anyone else. She was merely a puppet master to a body that could use him. And he offered himself to her _body_. Not her mind, or her heart, or her soul. Her body would use his. And that… was all. 

She knew that.

But it was still hard to accept. And even harder to stop.

“Do… do you want me to touch it?” she asked him.

He slowly nodded.

She sucked in her breath. And then, very reluctantly, pulled her hand away.

If he was disappointed, he did not show it. He did not show anything. That… that was something she’d always rather liked about him.

She got slowly to her feet. He didn’t move, looking up at her passively.

“That...” she nodded to herself. “That will have to be enough for me. I think.”

He still said nothing at all.

Mitsui glanced up from his phone as Haruko came towards him a little dazedly.

“Over already?” he asked.

She nodded numbly.

Mitsui got to his feet and stretched widely. He gave her a smile and then he went over to where Rukawa was still kneeling on the ground. He picked up the velvet blanket and draped it around Rukawa's bare shoulders, and asked him if he was cold. There was tenderness in his action, Haruko noticed.

She watched as Mitsui leaned in and set a gentle kiss on Rukawa’s temple. Rukawa’s eyes fluttered closed, leaning into Mitsui just a little bit.

Haruko felt a little warmer for watching them.

_He is happy. He has... support. It's obvious Mitsui takes care of him. That they share something..._

_He never could be mine. I always knew. Even now, it's just the same._

_But if he is happy then... then that is enough. Maybe._

Her fingers brushed over her own lips, remembering the feeling of Rukawa Kaede kissing her. Offering himself to her. That moment - a tumble into a well of sheer madness.

“Uhm, thank you,” she said to Mitsui. 

He straightened and gave her a mock bow. “You are more than welcome to come back any time at all,” he told her.

She nodded uncertainly.

“Why don’t you join the party outside?” Mitsui asked her. “I’ll be honest. The club would dazzle all the more brightly for your presence.”

She blushed and looked at the floor, remembering the half-naked ladies. “I really don’t think...”

Mitsui raised his glass to her. “Beautiful women with beautiful hearts are _always_ welcome. Don’t you think so, Kaede?”

Kaede looked up at Mitsui from the floor, eyes blinking slowly, and then looked at Haruko standing uncertainly by the door.

“Yes,” he agreed quietly. The only word he had spoken. His soft voice so unexpected, so gentle and underused, that Haruko felt her heart throb.

There was meaning in his stare.

Like he was looking at her just a little differently from before.

She gave a rapid bow. “Thank you again,” she said quickly. Then, unable to resist a last lingering look, she soon turned and fled.


	7. Day 7 - Tentacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 - Tentacles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recycled an AU for this, since I was planning to use tentacles in that fic anyway. But it was originally going to be happy play-play consensual tentacle fun! And now it's... this instead:
> 
> WARNINGS:
> 
> -noncon/dubcon (ok look, it's pretty much just rape. martial rape, to be precise)  
> -tentacles! (obviously)  
> -sounding  
> -prostrate massage / torture? going into overstimulation and... oh dear.  
> -hate sex/revenge sex  
> -gagging / throat fucking? I don't know what to call it  
> -just tentacles - just fucking tentacles everywhere all at the same time - that's what it is.
> 
> This story pre-dates In the Lap of the Gods. In the original fic, the relationship between the sun and the sea is stormy but quite mature and balanced. This fic, however, details earlier days, when they were learning about one another, and their relationship was still in flux.
> 
> And, a special message for YOU (and YOU know exactly who YOU are) - GO AWAY!

**Day 7 - tentacles**

In the days of his youth, Rukawa Kaede - the god of the sea - was a very patient deity.

I do not mean it in a good way. He was not, for example, patient with small animals. Or little children. Or idiots.

No.

He was very patient with the slow and meticulous planning of his revenge. He could harbour a grudge through the centuries. Biding his time. Just waiting for that perfect opportunity to balance his books.

This was a valuable quality, in his estimation. For the sea god was cursed with the worst, most intolerable bastard of a husband since the days of antiquity. Never had the fates since dared envision a partnership _so_ fraught, _so_ broken, _so_ wretched in every single way. The pain was like knives in his chest. Every day. Every – fucking – day.

He sat on his throne, alone, miserable, and dreamed. Dreamed. Dreamed exactly what he was going to do to that bastard the minute he had the chance.

However, his husband - the beatific sun god, Sendoh Akira - did not give thought to the danger. He had wrangled with his husband many times before, and perhaps he did not truly believe that Rukawa would ever really, truly, want to hurt him.

To Sendoh, Rukawa’s spitting and spatting was mere diversion. Cute amusements.

Because they loved each other. Wanted each other. Burned for each other. And none of the fights, and the distances, and the time they spent separated, (not to mention the time Sendoh spent fucking ripe virgin mortals, demi-gods and groups of curvaceous nymphs – his rampant infidelity was one of his greatest charms, in his estimation), nothing was going to change that. 

Nothing.

Never.

And besides, every time he was forced to face his husband’s wrath – on those rare and few occasions when he bothered to descend to the great sea palace in his glittering golden chariot – it always ended the same way.

With _fucking_.

Well. What did anyone expect, really? At the end of the day, Sendoh Akira – god of the sun, lord of the dawn, master of the ten great heavenly chariots (and despoiler of twenty thousand mortal virgins) – was really absolutely irresistible.

Even to a cold-hearted, salty, miserable bastard like his one true wedded husband.

So he tolerated Rukawa’s anger – his little tantrums and rages and jealous spats – and when it was done, all the anger spent and fury all blown out, he would fuck him into submission. And then he would leave.

That was how it was. That was how it had _always_ been.

But Sendoh hadn’t quite counted on Rukawa’s long, long, long, long…

...long, long, long, long, long….

...long, long, long…

_patience_.

Until the day finally came that patience got its reward.

==

He’d shown up unannounced. No particular reason. As the dusk fell, Sendoh drew down into the waves, silent and uninvited. He had been so long since his last descent. Perhaps a year. Perhaps five. Or ten. Who knew? He didn’t keep track.

But every now and again, Sendoh got an itch in his loins. Because the sea god was true power. True strength. And true beauty. And every so often, Sendoh would remember his husband, sitting there, waiting, chaste and faithful and true. He would begin to think fondly of him – recalling happy times. The way he looked with Sendoh's cock in him. The way he moaned with Sendoh's cock in him. The way his legs parted and the way his eyes glinted in the green sea light... with Sendoh's cock in him. His hair would swirl in the ocean’s gentle currents, and scales like diamonds would glitter in his skin. With Sendoh's cock in him.

The only one who truly belonged to Sendoh. And the only one he’d never been able to truly possess at all.

And all at once it would be almost unbearable to be apart from him. A decade without a single thought, and then so suddenly, unable to keep himself away.

The whole of his descent he kept thinking about how it would feel. To push him down. To push him open. To push, push, push, push. To make him gasp, and then whimper, and then beg.

Yes, he knew there would be some manner of reckoning. That Rukawa would be angry. That he’d flash his fins and swirl the waters. But in the end, facing his anger was still worth the reward.

But when Sendoh pushed open the doors to the throne room – as he had so many times before – and as he strode in, majestic and brilliant and resplendent in light, he was confused to find the throne of the sea god…

... _empty_?

He stopped there, staring, like a star upon a stage with no audience to witness his greatness. The sun god, glittering like gold and dazzling like diamonds. Standing alone.

He looked around. 

Something was… strange.

“Kaede?” he asked the empty room, confused.

His voice echoed a little in the great cavern. The walls, the floor, the throne itself, were all bare rock. There was not a single sign of life.

Was Kaede… _out?_

No. Rukawa never left this place. He had found for himself the deepest, darkest, most remote and desolate place in the ocean to build his great palace. He had no visitors except those rare occasions when Sendoh came to impose his conjugal rights upon him. He never left – he always sent creatures and monsters of the deep to do his bidding. He spent all his time stirring storms, flooding coastlines, wrecking ships, and hating the whole world. For the sea was of a dark and cold and murderous nature.

But now he… wasn’t here? Was that even possible?

Sendoh’s eyes alighted upon a single piece of colour in the otherwise barren hall. Something small, kicked thoughtlessly, laying by the empty throne. It was distinct. Catching Sendoh’s attention despite its smallness. Because Rukawa did _not_ like colour.

He slowly went towards the throne. All around him, the palace felt empty and ominous. He hadn’t noticed when he arrived that it had the air of an abandoned ruin. Why? Why hadn’t he noticed that?

Was he so used to Rukawa’s cold aloofness that it had really made no impression on him at all?

Or had he just been too occupied with dreaming of Rukawa’s body twisting and gasping under his hands to even pay attention?

_What’s going on?_

Something a little more like concern began to steal over him. Something wasn’t right here. Something…

He reached the throne and looked down. What he saw was a piece of broken coral. It had once been bright pink in colour, but now it had faded to a pale blush of barely any hue. He recognised it though. It had been snapped off the decorative hair piece Sendoh had bought as a gift the last time he had been here. It had been a bit of tease. To see Rukawa’s indignant fury at being gifted something so ridiculous. But Sendoh had insisted on tying up his long beautiful hair in a silly girlish style, sliding in the bright pink hair piece, and watching Rukawa squirm with embarrassment.

He’d fucked him like that. Up against the wall. Admiring his blushing face in the midst of his humiliation.

It had been good. It had _felt_ good.

But now he stared at the broken coral, his heart slowly speeding up.

How long had it been since he’d come here last? 

That time – that silly pink clip visible between the long floating strands of his hair - Sendoh couldn’t even remember when that was.

How long had it been since this clip had broken? It had already lost nearby all its colour. For how many years had it lain here, bleaching slowly in the sea salt? How long since Sendoh had last given even a single thought to this place?

He had never seen this room without Kaede in it.

_Where is he?_

Kaede was supposed to be here. 

He was _always_ here!

Feeling discomforted by this totally unexpected situation, Sendoh reached out to snatch up the coral piece. As soon as his fingers brushed against it, a whirl of sound and noise rushed into his mind. In shock, he dropped the coral, and it floated slowly from his hand, spinning gently in the water.

He stared at it.

Not just a broken fragment. It had been placed here for him to find. It was a _message_.

Composing himself, he slowly reached out to touch it again. This time he did not pull away as the images began to play in his mind. It was fragmented, and hard to follow. He saw glimpses of Kaede. There was thrashing water – a fight? It was all too confused. Things moving fast. He saw Kaede hit the wall, just a second, a fraction of a second, enough to bring Sendoh up short in shock.

_What?_ He couldn’t think of a single force or deity strong enough to do such a thing to Kaede.

And then the images coloured to black. Pitch black. Blacker than the mere absence of light. It was darkness. True – darkness.

_SENDOH AKIRA_ \- a voice called within his mind. It sounded like it was smiling. _GOD OF THE SUN. LORD OF THE DAWN_ , it addressed him mockingly.

Sendoh’s eyes widened. He knew that voice. He knew that blackness.

_I HAVE – TAKEN - SOMETHING FROM YOU._

“No-” Sendoh breathed in disbelief.

It could not be true. Kaede was strong. _So_ strong. Not even the darkness could have overpowered him. Surely – _surely_ -?

_I WILL TAKE GOOD CARE OF IT._

“ _No_ -!” Sendoh burst out angrily, though no one was there to listen, a terrible fear flooding his heart. _Don’t touch him! Don’t you dare touch him!_

_SHOULD YOU WANT IT RETURNED -_ the voice continued silkily – _YOU NEED ONLY REMOVE THE MEDALLION FROM YOUR NECK, FALL TO YOUR KNEES, AND SUBMIT._

And then the images vanished as quickly as they had appeared.

After a few moments of silence, Sendoh’s fingers loosened and allowed the little piece of broken coral to float away, his eyes staring ahead blankly.

_When was this?_ he couldn’t stop asking himself. _Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t I even notice he was gone?_

It could have been yesterday. It could have been years ago.

Kaede could have been sitting enslaved, imprisoned, tortured, _raped_ for all this time. For _all_ this _time_. Whilst Sendoh had been off doing – what? What on earth had he been doing? Fucking virgins. Dancing with nymphs. Soaking his cock in the whole wide wonderful world.

Never even realising that the thing that was most precious to him… was gone?

Rukawa Kaede. God of the sea. A miserable, cranky, violent, jealous pain in the neck. But even so. Even… so...

The guilt was extraordinary.

_What... have I done? Why did I not think to come back here sooner? Why did I never bother to check on him?_

Sendoh fingers drifted upwards to the gold medallion that hung from his neck, precisely in the centre, clasping together his golden cloak. It was embossed with the image of the sun.

If he removed it, his god-strength would leave him. Not permanently, of course. The medallion could always be reworn. But he would become like a man for the time he did not wear it. Little better than a mortal. He had never taken it off before. For a moment he wondered whether, should it be removed, he could even be vulnerable to death.

He looked around, but the palace was dead and empty. He had no other clues. No way to find Kaede at all. He could tear apart the entire earth, but it would be in vain. For the blackness was a domain into which he could not tread. The dark of the underworld did not tolerate the light of the sun. And here, Kaede’s palace, stood right on the border of that terrible place. A place where the light did not touch.

It was a trap. He was almost sure. But Sendoh stood there, alone. With nothing but pain and guilt. And he did not know what else to do.

_Kaede... I... I..._

He was shaking as he slowly knelt on the rocky ground, right there before Kaede’s empty throne. He took the medallion in two hands and, slowly, lifted it up and over his head.

He realised his mistake at once.

The _sea_.

Kaede’s power had always been monstrous. But he had never had to face it as a mortal before. It hadn’t even occurred to him that mortals – unlike deities – could not breath beneath Kaede’s waves. He had not realised how massive was the weight of the water that Kaede could control and manipulate with one idle wave of his hand. It would crush him, he realised in shock. Like he was a mere ant.

Death swirled around him in a storm of bubbles in that one terrifying second. _SUBMIT_. Was this what the message had meant? That the god of death had intended for his execution? That he should die kneeling by Kaede’s throne, and drowned in his waters?

He tried to restore the medallion to his neck, but his hands were suddenly full of nothing but cold water. An unfamiliar terror gripped him. The realisation of his own vulnerability. The crushing force of his own demise. 

_I am... drowning._

He hands sought the medallion frantically. Had he dropped it? How? But where-?

_Where is it?!_

“Kaede!” he tried to scream for him, in a sudden panic. His mouth opened but only large bubbles came out, noisily bobbling away upwards into the blue hell of the sea. _Help me!_

Something crashed into him then and sent him rocketing sideways into the wall of the throne room with a painful boom. His arm was crushed in the impact. He couldn’t see what had struck him. None of his senses were working properly. And every second the stale breath in his lungs burned more and more painfully. _Need to breathe_ , he realised in numb panic. _Need to…_

Something crashed into him again. It felt like the sweep of a dragon’s tail, crushing him hard against the wall.

“Ngh!” the sound came out of him in a blast of little bubbles. His vision was failing. His consciousness going foggy. _Kaede- Kaede! I’m sorry-! I’m-_

Something thick and long and slippery forced its way into his mouth and pushed right to the back of his throat in one quick stab. He half-gagged around it, his throat contracting, his eyes rolling back, convinced he was being murdered in the most barbaric way. The _thing_ was lined with spines that stuck out and lodged painfully in his throat like a ball of pins.

And suddenly, he could breathe.

He spluttered around the thing protruding from his mouth in astonishment. It – whatever the hell _it_ was – was feeding him air. His lungs sucked hungrily, dragging the oxygen into himself in relief.

He was… alive? Somehow. He was breathing. He- he-

Slowly feeling his senses recover as the blessed air was restored to his body, he managed to open his eyes.

The first thing he saw was a huge curl of purplish, cephalepodic flesh. Connected to the prickly air ball in his throat, it protruded from his mouth like a hideous arm, stretching out his jaw and making him feel distinctly sick. He could feel it pressing down heavy on his tongue, and running thick through his gag reflex. But since he realised it was perhaps the only thing keeping him alive, he forced himself not to panic. _Just... breathe._ He tried to calm himself.

A second tentacle was holding him captive against the wall. This one was much larger, thicker around than Sendoh could have embraced with his arms. It squeezed him tightly, his arms trapped against his sides. from his armpits to his waist. Small suckers waved gently from its mass.

Sendoh traced the origin of the tentacles with his eyes. Both arms led back to the middle of the room. To the… 

...throne?

His eyes widened.

Sitting there, with Sendoh’s medallion of power hanging from one finger, was his missing husband. _Rukawa Kaede._ God of the sea.

His trident leaned casually against the arm of his seat. His hair rose like a halo, floating gently around his face. His body shone silver and teal and diamond, naked apart from the sheer cloth tossed carelessly over his shoulder.

He bore no marks or evidence of suffering. He was not thin or malnourished or sickly. He sat calmly. As if he'd never even left. And his eyes were cold.

Rukawa Kaede, Sendoh remembering, looking at him, was a _god_. 

Sendoh had never experienced him through such miserable mortal senses before. Never realised the blinding brilliance of his beauty. The raw and panting terror of facing his strength. The sea all around him was bent to his will. Every inch of Sendoh was wholly within his power.

He tried to wriggle, seeking to loosen the coil, but it was futile.

_Kaede-?_

At first he felt relief and confusion. _He's... safe? Did he come to help me? What is going on?_

But as his eyes fell on the medallion that swung back and forth and back and forth, a different kind of suspicion began to enter his mind. Why... wasn't Kaede giving it back to him? Why... were these tentacles not only helping him to breath but also... holding him immobile?

Could it be that the lord of darkness had turned Kaede against him?

Sendoh's eyes lifted a little, to see the other half of the broken pink hair ornament nestled in Kaede's beautiful long hair.

Kaede was wearing it by _choice_?

He wanted to ask. But his mouth was still plugged up by the purple tentacle, and he was effectively gagged. So he only stared at Kaede helplessly, asking with his wide eyes.

"You still don't understand?" his husband asked him coldly.

The sea god was very, _very_ patient.

There was a sudden surge in the water, and numerous tentacles grew from Kaede's form. From his back, from his fingers, from his arms. A sudden explosion of appendages that twisted and twirled like ribbons in the water. Perhaps twenty of them. All different girths. 

Rukawa often changed his body when it suited him - most often he wore a fish tail for the convenience of underwater movement, but he could split it into human legs when it suited him. He'd taken the form of a dolphin on a couple of occasions when Sendoh had managed to coax him up to surface of the water. But this was the first time Sendoh had seen... _this_.

Kaede sat on his throne, a little distance away. But his body was fragmented into so many feelers, twisting through the water. There was something terribly aquatic about it. Sendoh found himself frustrated by the fact that it really did suit him so well. _Why hasn't he shown me this form before-?_ he wondered.

They came towards him, and for a moment Sendoh thought they were for his aid. Then he felt those same tentacles gently begin to tickle against his thighs and his stomach. Feeling their way thoughtfully along the seam of Sendoh's short golden pants. He wore them skin tight, seeking to hide absolutely nothing (after all, he was particularly proud of his substantial sexual organ). The trailing tentacles began to slowly wiggle their way under the fabric. Another cupped Sendoh's cock gently through the material, hefting it with experimental little motions as if measuring its weight.

It felt... strange. A small blush appeared on Sendoh's cheeks. The little tentacles felt rather nice, teasing him gently. Kaede's little suckers touching his cock.

_But- what is he... doing?_

Another tentacle came to his face, and Sendoh focused on it. It twirled in front of him in a strange, hypnotising fashion. Its little suckers rippling with curving motions, almost playful. Distracting him. Below, the tentacles were slowly removing his clothing.

The small tentacle moved closer, and then gently touched his cheek. It twisted slowly over to his nostril and paused there. The narrow tip of it moved upwards, entering the cavern of his nose and doing a slow, thorough circular drag, ticking the inside, disturbing every tiny hair. Sendoh wrinkled his nose instinctively, wanting to expel it, but the tentacle persisted. Sendoh wondered whether it might at any moment move further up, pushing into his head, and recognised finally that he was defenceless to stop it.

"Do you get it now?" Rukawa asked him quietly, as the tiny tentacle continued to twist purposefully inside his nostril.

_Get it-?_ Sendoh was still confused. _Get... what?_

His thoughts scattered as he felt something - tentacles, doubtless - take firm grip of his ankles and begin to prise them slowly apart. The other tentacles had already removed his pants, and he could feel them - lots of them - playing about his inner thighs. Gently suctioning on, and then pulling away with a gentle pop, only to refasten again. It was a very strange, ticklish sensation.

His cock had already hardened, he could feel it. Yet the tentacles didn't touch him there, preferring to only tease him instead.

It was at that moment that the large tentacle in his mouth gave a distinctive _pulse_. It throbbed against his tongue in a disconcerting way. He couldn't help spluttering a little in surprise.

The feelers that were pulling his legs open did not stop at what Sendoh considered a reasonable point. Instead they continued to widen his legs further and further, gently bending him in at the knees and pushing his knees high into his chest. It was about then that Sendoh realised they were not seeking access to his proud and beautiful cock, but rather his... hole?

_Wait a minute_ , he wanted to protest. That... wasn't right.

His eyes landed on Kaede's face. He was stony and impassive as usual. And yet his eyes were watching with something akin to curiosity as Sendoh's body was slowly forced to reveal its most intimate place to his gaze. The reality of his predicament finally dawning on him, Sendoh tried to struggle. But he had only the strength of a mortal. And Kaede... Kaede was still a god.

"Do you love me?" Kaede asked, in a quiet dangerous voice. "You who humiliate me? Seek to break me open, plunder me, possess me? You _love_ me. But then why have you never offered me... this?"

Sendoh went stock still as something brushed very, very lightly over his opening. "Ngh!" he said. Perhaps it was finally dawning on him just what was going to happen to him.

"It's still virginal, isn't it?" Kaede asked softly. "Even after... all these years?"

The tentacle in Sendoh's mouth pulsed again, more distinctly even than before. It felt a little like it was moving - the largest point of expansion beginning to roll up and down along its length, in and out of Sendoh's mouth. And it felt very much - very very much - like being fucked. And finally Sendoh realised that he _got it_.

The tentacle around his torso began to shift and slither, moving in distressing ripples across his body, squeezing and releasing until he was breathless. It was a warning, a reminder, that his whole body, every inch - every single piece of him - was caught in Kaede's net. He was for Kaede to play with. To torment at his leisure. Each movement of the little tentacles against his skin sent warm arousal deep into his gut, making his cock twitch, and his muscles tense. His face flushed darker. He tried to swallow, but his throat only contracted unpleasantly around the tentacle in his mouth.

Meanwhile, there was still one tentacle playing meaningfully at his exposed entrance, not allowing him to forget, sometimes pushing gently at the hole - not enough to breach it - just enough to worry him.

"Frrgh!" he wanted to speak. He wanted to reach out with his voice. Make some sort of connection with the god who was tormenting him. But Kaede did not have any intention of letting him speak. Was not interested in what he had to say.

Though, in the great scales of time they were still young, they had already loved one another for millennia and Sendoh had squandered too many chances. Had done too much. Been too careless. What right did he have to complain?

_Kaede, I'm sorry._

_That I humiliated you._

_Embarrassed you._

_Left you all alone._

_I should have-_

The thought did not complete. The tiny tentacles that had been playing about his thighs had finally drifted up to his cock. But not to give him any relief. He felt one tight wrap around the top of his balls and pull downwards, causing an unbearable tugging pain, like his balls were being slowly pulled off his body.

"Nnngh!" his back tried to arch, his legs tried to close, his shoulders twisting a little in his struggle. But he could not move. He tried to kick out with his legs, but the feelers still held his ankles apart in perfect immobility. Not even his fiercest effort was enough to tax the sea god's strength.

He felt a second tight ring of pressure, this time taking hold of the base of his cock and squeezing unnecessarily hard. There was more pain now than anything else. His erection was forced to persist only because the blood could no longer drain from it. He squeezed his eyes closed and felt tears squeeze out silently, lost in the sea water. He half wondered whether Kaede could detect them.

The downward pull did not relent. The pain became a blurry constant. Filling him with distress, panic, and the true sense of his vulnerability. He really could do nothing at all. He had run into the limit of his existence so hard, he felt like he'd cracked his skull. The all powerful sun god. Everything ripped away. Below the weight of his realisation, the great bow of his pride warped, and bent.

Something prickled his cheeks. He forced his eyes open to see two razor thin tentacles waving before him, brushing his face softly from time to time. Too small to feel like anything more than pins, he could not even tell if they were rough or smooth.

He tried to look beyond, past the thin tentacles and the large one gagging his mouth, to focus on Kaede who sat still watching with complete coldness. It did not even seem as if these tentacles could belong to him. He was so aloof, so distant from what was happening, merely a voyeur watching a mildly interesting feature.

But, these tentacles were his fingers. His limbs. His own body controlled by his mind. And there was certainly no accident in what they were doing to Sendoh now.

Sendoh winced as the grip around his cock tightened further with a slow creaking flex.

The thin tentacles before his face slowly and deliberately sunk down, out of his sight.

He could not imagine where they could be going until he felt them again at the head of his pained and throbbing erection. Tapping over the surface like little tickling ants. His whole body jumped in unpleasant shock.

They crept closer and closer to his urethra.

He sucked in a breath - as much as he could considering he was still being fed air by a ball of pins and a tentacle - and then felt them slowly slide down, right inside his cock.

He groaned meaninglessly, his mouth moving compulsively in distress, rippling against the solidness in his mouth. He could feel them descending. There seemed to be two or three. Thin enough to slip in together. They crawled down inside him. Prickling softly, filling him with the strangest sensation. It felt like Kaede was holding his most sensitive vulnerability against a knife. Parts of him that were never meant to be touched were prickled and rubbed by Kaede's twisting fingers. It was overwhelming and frightening. Sendoh wanted to struggle against the tentacles holding him, but felt even more frightened when he thought that the tentacles now _inside_ him might slip or damage something. He tried to force himself not to move, although all his muscles were already trembling helplessly.

Then, at almost the same time, as if to make keeping still even more difficult, the larger tentacle gave him one last teasing lick before pushing in to fully breach his rear passage. Finally opening up his virgin hole with a single unceremonious thrust.

At that point, he tried to scream. Frightened to move in case of damage, he had no other outlet for his feelings except his voice. But even that was blocked. Only bubbles rose around his face from the air fleeing his mouth, but the three sets of tentacles did not withdraw. If anything, they pushed deeper. All at once. Spearing him in three ways, his body hanging helpless and tormented between them.

_SUBMIT._

His body convulsed, his head tipping back. And in the next moment, Kaede began to _fuck_ him.

His ass, his mouth, his _cock_. Every hole he had was being filled and emptied of Kaede.

_SUBMIT_.

The pulses over his tongue throbbed in and out at a terrible pace, forcing his throat to contract and gag over and over again. The tentacle in his ass was twisting inside him in the most agitating way, both stretching his hole painfully wide and swirling his insides until he was sure he was turning into soup. But the worst - the nasty little razors rubbing inside his own cock - sent his mind into a terrified frenzy. He could feel them purposefully pulling the entrance to his uethra gently wider and wider with a slow burning sensation. He could only garble in fear, too frightened to move, squeezing his eyes shut tight and hanging onto his sanity.

_SUBMIT._

"Ngh!" he choked out in a muffled voice, half sob, half cry of terror when, quite suddenly, a burst of something - huge and powerful and overwhelming like lightning through his stomach - shocked him from within. The large tentacle at his back had curled around his prostrate, sucking onto it with terrible little suckers, rippling and massaging and making his vision turn white. His body jerked involuntarily in a spiderish fashion.

From the front, the two wire-like probes had descended down to prod the same organ from its other side like pins, resulting in a pleasure-pain shock of electricity to punch through him, emptying his body of everything - _everything_ \- except the feeling. "Nnngh!" he spluttered again around the tentacle gag. Unable to even hear his own cries. But the sounds were punched out of him with each merciless double-sided strike, an involuntary staccato to accompany his convulsions. "Nnngh!" another strike. "Ngh!" the fourth. "NGH!" yet again. And rather than bring him any mercy, his cries only seemed to result in him getting pierced harder and harder.

_I'm going to break_ , his thoughts were blurred and indistinct. More instinctive than rational. Distress seeping through every cell in his body. _I can't- I can't-_

His mind had been reduced to nothing. He couldn't even remember time. Light or dark. Day or night. Yes he, the god of the sun, forget for a moment what it meant to see the day. Because there was nowhere except here. There was nothing else. Only now. Only this. His body used - each orifice forced wide to swallow up all of Kaede Rukawa's revenge. His hate and his love. Of all that, and Sendoh was truly truly full.

When a second tentacle joined the first in his ass, his body must have felt it because he spasmed wildly, the stretch becoming almost unbearable. But his mind, so fogged and overwhelmed already, barely noticed. The two tentacles pried themselves apart. Pulling his entrance open wider, allowing the sea water to flood into him with a cold, crampy sensation. But he only fell limp, jaw stretched wide, ass forced open, cock twitching in fear as it was ringed and skewered. And all around him, everywhere, _Kaede_. He gurgled a little in his throat.

Nothing. He could do nothing. He couldn't even scream.

_SUBMIT_.

How foolish. He could not resist. But was his defeat the same as his submission?

He was there because he loved him. He whimpered in a small cloud of bubbles. He had always loved him. And always been loved, in return.

This.

He felt it strongly as his vision faded. Helpless. Though he was finally losing grip on his consciousness, it wasn't so different, in the end, from a pink coral hair piece.

Just as he was on the very verge of passing out, the irregular thrusting of the different tentacles ceased, and instead they slowed, taking on the same steady, slower rhythm. The pulse in his mouth, the trust in his ass, and the unbearable rubbing inside his cock, abruptly synchronised into one slow motion. Dragged in, dragged out. Lethargic, almost. Like the tentacles were rocking him on a lulling tide.

Sendoh's body was already fucked beyond resistance, without strength or tension. But the change in pace did something to his mind.

_Ah-_

His eyelashes trembled.

He had not noticed the tight grip on his cock and balls unwind, but now that things were less frantic he finally realised that they were gone.

_Kaede?_

Somehow, the first thought in his slowly recovering mind, was of him.

He tried to focus on him, sitting there and watching coldly still. Once again, the need to speak was upon him. How badly he wanted to express - _something_. Whether it was to apologise or beg or seek to justify his failings, he didn't know. Perhaps he was angry. Or perhaps he was grateful. His mind was so muddled he hardly knew anything at all. But he wanted a connection. A reassurance. Something less animal and something more comforting.

But Kaede gave him none of that.

However he did, finally, rise from his seat. Slow and majestic and terrifying. All of the tentacles moved slightly with his motion. Sendoh's medallion glinting in his palm.

"Ngh-" Sendoh tried to speak, reach out somehow, but it was hopeless. He felt the tentacles within him shift a little roughly, as if in reprimand, and he fell into obedient silence at once.

Kaede crossed the distance between them with slow, careful steps. He was naked, as he usually was, apart from a large sheer mesh fabric that pressed over his front and floated loose in the waters behind him, edged with golden thread. It was translucent, hiding nothing of his rippling muscles and his state of arousal. On his ankles were glittering golden anklets, hung with golden seashells, sparkling. He wore no crown - just the pink coral clip, pulling his long loose hair away from his face.

He really was beautiful.

Sendoh's humiliation seemed to increase with every step Kaede took.

_He_ was the one who owned this beautiful, perfect thing. The sea god's body was _his_. To dominate, to possess, to tease and twist and take. All his.

Then how had this come about? Sendoh, trembling, crying, humiliated and fucked raw. Kaede's passivity during his tortures had been a blessing. It had been possible to forget he was even there to witness his degradation.

But now it was his eyes, his stare, his attention, that was distressing. Far more than the predicament. More even than the tentacles stuffing him full.

_Don't look at me_ , he wanted to say. _Please don't see me like this._

_I want to be..._

_...the sun._

_I -_ am _\- the sun._

_I... I..._

But Kaede drew right up close to his face. Unblinking. Staring like he was looking into Sendoh's soul. Plucking hard on his broken pride like he was snapping lute strings one by one.

"Husband," he said. As he often did, when he was writhing and gasping and begging to come.

Sendoh could only stare back at him, helplessly.

And then Kaede smiled.

Sendoh could not recall when he had last seen such an expression on his face. Not in a thousand years. Not in ten thousand years. Not, perhaps, since the very beginning. When the world had been dark and dry. When the sea and the sun had entwined their bodies for the first time, and bought the first tiny flickers of life to the barren world.

Kaede reached forward with one hand, that ghost of a smile still lingering about his lips, and with long delicate fingers, took careful hold of Sendoh's organ. The pulsing tentacles still filling him had slowed into motionlessness, so that the only thing he felt then, was Kaede's fingers.

Sendoh's eyes creased up in simple pleasure.

The fingers were gentle. Soothing. Powerfully blissful. Even with a rod stuffed down the full length of his cock, Kaede's touch was utmost pleasure.

_Oh, please._

_Please._

Sendoh trembled silently, aching for more.

He felt the pins in his throat suddenly vanish, and the large tentacle in his mouth began to withdraw. He panicked for a moment, remembering how it had felt to be drowning. He thought maybe Kaede had finally decided to kill him. With his cock in his hand and his water in his lungs. He tried to shake his head, to beg him _no_. But the tentacle withdrew anyway.

"Breathe," Kaede told him simply.

Half expecting a lungful of water, Sendoh took a compulsive breath, and discovered that he could indeed breath. He stared at Kaede in surprise. But then, he realised, of course such a simple miracle was well within Kaede's power. The crude tentacle in his throat had been superfluous from the start.

He could have felt annoyed by it, but what was the point? Kaede had wanted to do it. Thus it had been done.

"Speak," Kaede told him next.

Such a command? Now? Sendoh had never been short of words before. But he was there at his weakest, nearly broken, with Kaede's touch still lingering deep inside his body. Still, for the moment. But threatening nonetheless.

What was he to say?

All along he'd wanted to speak. But... to say what?

_I'm sorry?_

No. That was obvious. That was the _minimum_. Him being sorry had begun long ago. From the moment he'd realised what he'd lost, the broken coral spinning from his fingers. But now, there was so much more. _So much more_.

Then should he say... _I love you?_

No. That would be stupid. He'd said that every time he'd been here. He'd meant it, too. It had never been a lie.

_SUBMIT_.

There was only one thing to say.

He swallowed, his throat painful.

"More," he croaked, his voice rough and pained. "Please," he had to swallow once again to force his mouth to work. "More."

Rukawa's eyes shone. Then he leaned in close, and set his lips softly against Sendoh's. It was sweet. Reassuring. Evidence of a balance well and truly tipped.

Everything began to move again. Slowly, this time. The tentacles still buried inside him, feeling, questing, perfectly accurate as they touched his most sensitive spots. He groaned, and Rukawa's tongue filled his mouth, soft and warm and wet.

Sendoh relaxed, giving himself up to the feeling that built in his gut in slow swoops. Being tenderly filled, massaged from within, the pleasure heating him all the way through. Rukawa's presence was reassurance. Was comfort. And when his cool fingers finally began to move, pumping in long slow motions up and down his length, Sendoh quickly came totally undone.

"Ugh," he let out an ugly, broken moan as he spilled his seed in a slow, rolling orgasm. Milky white trails drifted up into the seawater, pulsing out from between Kaede's fingers and around the penetrating tentacle in a delayed dribble.

Kaede's hand continued to move, tenderly milking every moment of pleasure out of his body.

Then, he was released. The tentacles that had been holding his ankles, and wrapped around his torso, slithered free. The ones that had been penetrating him also withdrew, more carefully, gently relieving the stretch.

He collapsed forward into Rukawa's arms, feeling half dead.

Kaede caught him, and held him gently against his chest. Sendoh closed his eyes and shook.

"Akira, I love you," Rukawa promised him. It was sincere. But it felt a bit hollow, a bit strange, after everything. Sendoh felt his chest clench uncomfortably. Was this what he had sounded like every time he'd told Kaede he loved him, only to turn around and walk away for another decade? It was shockingly insufficient. Didn't even brush close to the reality. And, worse, was undermined again and again by his actions.

His love was true. But somehow that just seemed to make it hurt all the more.

Sendoh did not have energy to reply. But he felt Rukawa push his medallion back into his palm.

"Here."

Sendoh took it in hand, but he didn't immediately put it back on. It was strange but he rather liked being at Kaede's mercy. Just for a little longer. To be weak and helpless in Kaede's arms.

"I love you too," he murmured back, his eyes fluttering closed. "I really, really do."

Rukawa continued to stroke his hair silently until Sendoh was asleep. His head on Kaede's shoulder seemed to weigh nothing. Then, when Sendoh's breathing had evened out into the slow and regular breathes of sleep, he set a kiss on his temple and replied, "I know."

And from that day on, whenever the sun dipped into the sea ...

... they took turns.


	8. Day 13 (in advance) - Frottage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 13 (posted early) - Frottage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember the last time I wrote Rukawa as a seme - oh well, here it is.
> 
> Happy Ruhana/Hanaru day 2020 ;)
> 
> This one is for you, Mrsklemzak - thanks for ten years of support even though you "don't really like senru" haha xx

**Day 13 - Frottage**

The train was already packed. It was the last working day before the long weekend, and it seemed like the whole world was going home early. The Shohoku students crowded the platform, but train after train that stopped was already full to bursting. Barely a handful of people got on or off every time. Overhead, a speaker buzzed into life every two minutes to apologise again and again for the delays.

Sakuragi Hanamichi, head and shoulders taller than the other students pressed around him, could see the full depressing situation.

"How's it looking?" his friends kept asking him, as they were too short to see much except a crowd of people.

"Eh-" Sakuragi shrugged. "Bad."

"I might walk," Yohei decided. Out of all of them, his home was closest.

"I'll go with you!" Noma agreed. 

They had to struggle out of the crowd, leaving only Sakuragi behind with Nozomi and Yuji, whose homes were the furthest away.

Very, very slowly they shuffled closer to the trains with every new arrival and departure, until finally, Sakuragi was able to squeeze onto the next. His friends waved at him from the platform. There was no space for them, and they would have to wait for the next one.

Sakuragi squeezed into the corner by the door, jostled on all sides by the many bodies crushed in around him. The train doors slid shut somehow, miraculously without squashing any part of him. 

Then the train began to move, rattling a little unsteadily along. At the next stop, a bunch of people got out, and a bunch more crowded on, pushing Sakuragi deeper into the carriage. At the second stop, the same happened again. The bodies were so crammed together, Sakuragi was worried to even move in case he stood on a foot or elbowed a person in the face.

He stood awkwardly near the centre of the carriage, hedged in by dozens of people. And then the person behind him stepped in a little too close, and there was a sudden unexpected exchange of body heat. It was disturbingly intimate, but thankfully the individual leaned away at once, reestablishing the tiny gap. Sakuragi grimaced to himself and shuffled his feet a little. Unfortunately he could not even turn his head around to glare at the offender, crammed in as they were.

The train continued on. Another stop. More shuffling around. People squeezing by, bags bumping into his legs, jostling and struggling. The whole carriage was stuffy and the air was thick. It smelt like too many warm people.

Someone else pressed against his back. Another sudden sense of body heat. Too close. Sakuragi gritted his teeth a little in annoyance, waiting for them to lean back as before. But after a moment this person still had not moved away.

_What the hell?_

Sakuragi wanted to turn around to confront them, whoever they were, and tell them to back off. But it was almost impossible to move. Wary of accidentally hurting those immediately around him, Sakuragi resorted to using an elbow and attempting to stab the person behind him with it. But to his surprise, a firm hand grabbed his attacking elbow before it could make contact and held it in a tight grip.

"A'ho," said the person tucked in close behind him. "You're gonna hurt someone."

Sakuragi froze in astonishment.

"Ki- ki- ki- _kitsune_?!"

All around him, disgruntled commuters sent him silent, disapproving stares at the loudness of his words. Sakuragi scowled back, but still he quietened and tried to turn to glare at Rukawa. However the press of bodies around them meant he couldn't see him at all.

"Mm." Rukawa's affirming hum was low and thick, close to Sakuragi's ear. For some reason it made Sakuragi blush.

"Move _back_ you ugly fox," Sakuragi hissed at him. "You stink!"

Rukawa did not, in fact, stink. Quite the opposite, in fact. His body heat and the tempting scent of whatever body spray he used after practise made a powerful combination that caused Sakuragi's stomach to clench a little, a swooping little flip deep in his gut.

He tried to elbow Rukawa again, jostling him a little roughly in a bid to get some more space, but Rukawa still gripped his arm as tightly as before.

At that moment, the train took a turn into a tunnel, and the whole carriage tilted momentarily, causing people to stumble a little, and the whole body of heads and humans leant into the bend. And of course, Rukawa's body leaned more fully into Sakuragi's back, curving around him, creating a flush contact from his shoulder blades right the way down to the base of his spine. It was like being submerged in warm water. Unexpected, but not unpleasant. Sakuragi bit his lip and furrowed his brow in annoyance.

As the train straightened again, there was a wave of motion in the opposite direction as the commuters corrected their balance to compensate for the new angle. As Rukawa moved back from him, Sakuragi found himself tipping back into Rukawa's chest involuntarily. He blushed furiously, trying to right himself as quickly as possible.

But before he could straighten again, he felt Rukawa's hand reach around his hip, to slip lightly into his front trouser pocket. Sakuragi froze up in shock.

Rukawa said nothing, but Sakuragi could feel his hot breath on the shell of his ear. His large hand pressed flat against the front of Sakuragi's hip, radiating warmth.

" _Kitsune-!_ " he hissed in anger.

But Rukawa only shhed him calmly. "No one can see, a'ho. Don't make a scene."

"A _scene-_!?" Sakuragi blurted indignantly, a little too loud, and once again found himself drawing the attention of the nearby passengers. He closed his mouth tightly and tried to will the blush away from his face. People were... _staring_. And Rukawa's hand was _sliding_. In short inches. Closer and closer to his flaccid cock.

 _Don't make a scene_.

People were still in the middle of giving him stares of disapproval as Rukawa's fingers began to gently rub him through the fabric of his pocket. It took every ounce of his self-control not to visibly react to the touch.

Rukawa's fingers were firm and clever, holding his soft cock between finger and thumb and making circles, slowly pulling him into a response. And as Sakuragi started to harden, Rukawa pulled him back a little tighter against his own body, until Sakuragi could feel the hardness in Rukawa's trousers prodding meaningfully into his back from behind.

"Kitsune-" Sakuragi tried to hiss, but his voice had gone a little high-pitched, and his words came out more like an affected plea than a reprimand.

"Mm," Rukawa repeated, pressing even closer to his ear. The low rumble of his voice drifted in through his ear, completely bypassed his mind, and went straight to his cock instead. 

Sakuragi could not stop himself letting out a tiny groan, and then immediately wanted to slap a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

Rukawa's hand began to move in long, slow strokes. Sakuragi had turned red to the tips of his ears.

"Ngh, _stop_!" Sakuragi hissed at him.

"Nh Nm," Rukawa refused with a near silent hum.

Sakuragi's eyes dated anxiously around him. There were dozens of people packed in tightly. Surely one of them would see? But no one was paying any attention at all, not even those pressed up so close he was touching their arms. 

As Rukawa continued, Sakuragi began to tremble a little. His knees felt weak. It was nothing but the crush of the crowd and the grip of Rukawa's hand that was even keeping him on his feet.

If this continued... if this...

His lips twisted a little in distress.

It was then that Sakuragi realised the train announcement was already warning that his stop was approaching next.

"This is my stop!" he realised hopefully, looking up at the digital display and seeing his home district name displayed.

"I know," Rukawa replied in a stoic tone. But he did not remove his hand. Did not slow his motions. Did not pull back, so that his words puffed into Sakuragi's ear like hot, delicious steam.

"Let me go," Sakuragi told him, trying to lift his bag and adjust his weight, in expectation of escaping the train.

"No," Rukawa replied.

Sakuragi flushed a deeper shade of red. "What do you mean, no?" he hissed in annoyance. "I have to get off here."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he heard the double entendre and wanted to kick himself. He could practically _hear_ Rukawa smirking.

"Get off at the next stop," Rukawa told him, making sure to emphasise the double meaning of the words.

"Why? No! I'm not walking back just because-"

The doors were already opening. "Come back to mine," Rukawa said simply, his hand still gripping, still moving, still staying attached through the fabric of his trousers and underpants even as the people around began to shift and move, allowing people off and on.

Sakuragi watched in quiet dismay as the door gave their familiar beeping sound, and then slid shut again with a bump. His feet simply hadn't moved at all. The idea of going back to Rukawa's place was just far too tempting.

He felt Rukawa begin to move a little - not enough to be obvious to the surrounding passengers, but more than enough to let Sakuragi feel Rukawa's significant length rubbing up meaningfully against his ass.

He had to bite back another groan, his cheeks hot and flushed, his body arching instinctively, just a bit. It was absolutely mortifying to think it, but if he was honest, it did feel a little bit good.

Rukawa's touch was always enough to bring him to a wretched state. But here, in _public_ , where anyone might suddenly notice what was happening in Sakuragi's pants? Well. This was just really... naughty.

The speakers crackled back into life to announce the next station - Rukawa's home. And finally, to Sakuragi's half relief and half disappointment, Rukawa's hand left his pocket.

Both boys held their school bags strategically in front of them as they waddled off the train, pushing through the crowd and finally - finally - escaping into the fresh air.

They looked at one another then. The first time they had shared a glance since the end of school. And Sakuragi saw that Rukawa's face was flushed and damp just the same as his. Their eyes met, a lightning exchange of heated desire, and they both knew they weren't going to make it home like this.

Rukawa grabbed his hand and began to pull him towards the station washrooms. "This way," he said.

They burst into an empty cubicle, spun the lock, and then Sakuragi found himself slammed into the wall with hot lips already at his neck.

"Ugh - Kaede, _Kaede_ , ah-"

Too impatient to wait, Rukawa's hands were already thrusting down into the front of his pants and finally coming skin to skin with the hard heat radiating there. Sakuragi whimpered a little, biting his lip and closing his eyes with a hiss. He let his head fall back with a quiet knock against the cubicle wall as Rukawa dropped to his knees and impatiently pulled Sakuragi's trousers and boxers down to his ankles. Sakuragi's erection immediately sprang upwards, freed from the fabric with a joyful little bounce. Rukawa eyed it for a moment, like a cat contemplating a bowl of cream. Then, his hands pushed Sakuragi's hips back hard against the wall, fingers digging into the flesh of his ass, and his lips closed around his arousal with one hard suck.

Sakuragi made a meaningless noise in the back of his throat, bringing up one hand to bite down on his knuckle. Rukawa bobbed his head with rapid motions, not bothering to start slow, his eyes closing in his own blissful contentedness to hear Sakuragi's whining and panting above him.

They were both fully aware that someone else could enter the washroom at any moment - in fact they could still hear the noises of bustling commuters walking past beyond the doors, the occasional rumbling of passing trains, and the shrill whistles of guards. But that only seemed to make it better. The way Sakuragi was fighting to quiet his own noises of pleasure, and the way Rukawa was determined to force him into orgasm as fast as humanly possible.

" _Kaede_ -" Sakuragi groaned, forgetting completely to call him by one of his many nicknames in the midst of his pleasure, "I'm – _ah!_ \- I'm - I'm -"

Sakuragi's fingers twisted tight into Rukawa's hair, pulling with enough force to tear, but Rukawa did not mind it. Instead he opened his throat and took Sakuragi's full length as far back as he could in one last glide.

Sakuragi's moan of orgasm was absolutely divine. Rukawa's eyelashes fluttered contentedly as he felt Sakuragi's salty spray fill up the back of his throat, his body locking up suddenly, back arching, head thrown back sightless. He swallowed it, and then sucked out the last remaining drops. He ran his tongue hungrily up and down the length, seeking to catch every last residue of salt, before letting Sakuragi’s cock out of his mouth with a quiet pop.

Sakuragi bent and pulled his trousers back up with shaking hands. He looked completely fucked out, Rukawa noticed. His pupils blown wide, his hair dishevelled, and his cheeks hot and flushed. Rukawa felt his own cock twitching at the sight of him.

Sakuragi eyed him a little uncertainly. "What about you?" he finally asked. He seemed a little embarrassed by the question, and Rukawa found it oddly endearing.

Rukawa reached out and took his hand. "Come on," he said. "Let's go home. We're not done."

"Oh," Sakuragi allowed himself to be pulled out of the cubicle. He swallowed, and then nodded. "Okay."

If Rukawa hadn’t been too horny to run, they probably would have.


	9. Day 8 - Casting Couch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 8 - Casting Couch
> 
> Kogure x Mitsui

**Day 8 - Casting Couch**

**Mum** : Nervous?

> **Me** : A bit.

**Mum** : You’ll do great.

> **Me** : I dunno…

**Mum** : Call me when you’re finished.

> **Me** : k

**Mum** : Remember, be polite!

> **Me** : I know, I know!

**Mum** : You'll do great, baby. Love you.

Mitsui Hisashi read the last message and slid his phone into his suit pocket. He laced his fingers together and sighed. Around him, the train car was rattling and screeching down the line towards the station that was his destination. He was wearing his best suit (or rather, his only suit), carrying a new briefcase, and he’d even shined his shoes. Inside the briefcase were two pens, and a folder containing the one A4 page of his CV. It was light. Depressingly light. Just like the way he felt right then. Limp and thin and insubstantial.

Who would want to hire him?

Nobody.

This was only his second office interview. Everything had come to nothing. He’d been looking for a job for months. He'd sent out dozens of CVs, and had barely a handful of replies. He knew his CV wasn’t the best – he’d pretty much flunked out of high school, and had no further education to speak of. He hadn’t made it into any universities. He was just a kid without prospects, a briefcase that was empty and awkward in his hand, polished shoes, and a suit that didn’t fit that well.

Who was he kidding?

He got off the train and walked to the exit, heels clicking a little against the tiles. He looked like a young professional going for an interview, but inside he felt like a total fraud.

Upon reaching the building, he looked up at it nervously. It was twenty storeys high. All glass and steel, glinting in the sun. Mitsui swallowed anxiously. He’d never been to an office this fancy before. He had no work experience so in fact he’d barely been to any offices at all except for the past two interviews he’d failed. He felt quite strongly like he did not belong there.

Nevertheless they‘d invited him here, so he forced himself to walk to the door and pass through into the air-conditioned lobby. A receptionist barely looked at him when he approached, telling him “sixth floor, room 601” before continuing to type on her computer.

He took the lift, and approached a staff member who sat at a small table just inside the door of the 601 room. He handed over his CV and he received a test paper in return. He was told to sit at one of the desks in the room, and complete it as quickly and accurately as possible.

Inside the room there were already five others, heads bowed over the tables as they scribbled quickly with their pencils. They all looked older and more put together than him. Mitsui felt a sinking feeling in his gut. He had never been good at tests, and these others seemed to know what they were doing.

He took and seat and cast his eyes over the questions warily. They were mostly maths based. A few vocabulary questions and some short paragraphs to read. He winced, and began by writing his name. The first question was tricky, but he somehow managed to come to an answer. The second was harder. The third, he couldn’t answer at all.

Feeling more and more discouraged he looked up at the others scribbling around him. Over by the doorway, he could see the staff member holding his CV and consulting with another man in a suit who was looking puzzled. They poured over his CV, and then glanced over at him.

Mitsui was filled with a sudden feeling of dread. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. Perhaps he was not even meant to be here? Perhaps he’d received the email by mistake? Perhaps they’d meant to invite someone else. He had thought it a bit strange that he had landed an interview here when a degree was a minimum requirement for the role and he didn’t have one.

He could feel a blush working his way up his cheeks and catching his ears. He tried to focus on the questions on the paper in front of him, and yet his ears were busy straining to try and hear what was being said about him.

Eventually one of the staff got up and came his way.

_Oh, no._

“Uhm, excuse me, Mr Mitsui?”

Mitsui looked up from the paper to see the man smiling sympathetically at him.

“There seems to be some kind of mistake.”

Mitsui’s heart dropped. “Oh.”

The man reached out to retrieve the question paper. “Actually, there is no need for you to complete this.”

Mitsui let the difficult questions be whisked away, feeling so embarrassed that he wished the floor would just swallow him up. He almost wanted to simply dash out of the room. He felt like such a fool.

He reached robotically for his briefcase at his feet. Now, without the CV and the pen inside, it really was just empty. 

“You can go straight to Mr Kogure’s office instead,” the staff member told him.

Mitsui, who had been expecting to be told to leave, paused. He blinked. He looked up. “What?”

“Mr Kogure will see you,” the man said, talking slowly as if Mitsui were simple. “In his office.”

"Uh, really?"

Standing aside, the man gestured for him to follow. He led Mitsui back to the lifts and instead of pressing the down button to the exit, pushed to go up instead. They went to the twentieth floor.

Mitsui's hands were sweating. He tried to rub them on his trousers discretely.

_Kogure. Mr Kogure._

_The head of the entire company._

_Was going to... interview him?_

The lift opened to a lush foyer. A woman in severe spectacles sat at a desk typing, and glaced up at them as they arrived.

"You're late."

Mitsui bowed reflexively, and the man beside him was already stammering, "There was a mistake. He was sent to the wrong room."

"Then your organisational arrangement needs improvement," the woman - a secretary? - commented coldly.

Her eyes moved to Mitsui. "Leave the briefcase," she told him. "And the jacket."

"W-what?"

"Put them on that chair," she pointed with one manicured finger.

"But-"

"It's for _security_ ," she spoke over him, her eyes hard. "To ensure you're not carrying mics or hidden cameras."

"...oh."

It was the most bizarre thing Mitsui had ever heard, but he did as asked.

"Mr Kogure is a very busy man," she told him strictly. "So see you answer his questions and follow his instructions promptly. Do not waste his time. Is that clear?"

"Er- y-yes."

She picked up the phone and put through a call, eyeing him judgmentally all the while.

"Mr Kogure? The candidate is here. Yes. Yes, that's correct. Ok."

She set the phone down. "You may knock and enter," she said.

Having no idea what to expect, and feeling strange without his briefcase to hold in front of him, he stood nervous in his white shirt, tie, and trousers. He knocked on the heavy door and, at the secretary's nod, turned the handle and went inside.

Kogure Kiminobu was well known in the tech world. Reputed as a digital genius, he had started his own fintech enterprise at twenty five and now sat at the top of a true powerhouse of a business. More than fifteen percent of the country's financial transactions were funnelled through his servers, and they were expanding every day.

Mitsui knew all this because he'd looked it up in preparation for the interview. Yet he'd never seen a photo of Kogure Kiminobu before.

He was a little surprised to see that he was a slender man, likely in his thirties, with a pair of round thin glasses perched on his nose. He looked younger than he was. His hair was soft mousey brown and his expression gentle. In fact, out of the all the people Mitsui had met so far in the building, he seemed by far the most approachable.

"Ah-" he stood up as Mitsui entered, and looked genuinely pleased to see him. "Good. Come in, please," he gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

Mitsui paused long enough to bow before moving uncertainly into the room and taking the seat Kogure indicated. They both settled into their chairs.

Kogure observed him curiously, his brown eyes darting over him with sharp observance. Mitsui had the feeling of being measured, just by those eyes. Kogure's intellect was certainly nothing to sniff at. But... what was he thinking about? What was he seeing?

"Would you mind," Kogure suddenly spoke, causing Mitsui to jump a little in his chair, snapping his attention back to the man, "introducing yourself? I'm afraid I don't have my papers to hand."

"Oh, yes," Mitsui cleared his throat nervously, and began to speak. "My name is Mitsui Hisashi," he explained. "And I'm, um, eighteen."

"Eighteen?" Kogure exclaimed with what seemed to be approval. "That's very young. Do go on."

"Well, I recently graduated high school and now I'm... looking for a... job." Mitsui trailed off weakly.

Kogure tilted his head a little. "Is there a reason you are not attending university?"

"I, uhm," Mitsui could feel himself beginning to sweat. But this was the sort of question he'd already practised with his parents. "Actually I believe that my university studies would be of greater value to me if I had some market experience first," he recited.

That was a lie. His grades were too poor. And if Kogure had his CV on hand, he'd definitely know that already.

"I see," Kogure nodded, and it seemed Mitsui had successfully got away with his bullshitting. "And what attracted you to fintech?"

"Uhm-"

Mitsui, who truthfully had never even heard of _fintech_ before last week, had luckily prepared this answer too.

"Actually I... particularly admire... _you_."

Granted he had not expected to actually be _faced_ with Kogure Kiminobu when this question was asked. He'd imagined speaking to some random human resources middle manager how how greatly he admired the company CTO, and then reciting all the things he had memorised about him and his achievements. But now, having to gush all that stuff directly into Kogure's own gentle face suddenly felt incredibly embarrassing. A blush crossed his face unbidden, and Kogure tilted his head, his fringe falling softly over one eye.

"Oh?" he prompted him. "Is that right?"

"Well," Mitsui tried to force some authenticity into his voice. "You... inspire me," he said nervously. "You started your own enterprise so young and you've made such a success. Even though you are much younger than most executives you are still able to compete with them and I... I really admire that, and uh, uh..." he cast his mind around frantically for something else he could say about Kogure Kiminobu. "I know that you're a family man and that's very respectable. I would love to follow in your footsteps and, uh- I just think that you are... uhm... great."

He was talking total shit. Kogure Kiminobu lifted one eyebrow at him. Mitsui wished the ground would just swallow him, because he felt like a total moron.

"I'm going to be honest with you," Kogure finally said.

That did not sound promising.

"O-oh?" Mitsui swallowed, unable to meet Kogure's eyes. He suspected he had been totally seen though. He had never felt like such a fraud. The man sitting before him was a genius. A legitimate, certified genius. And Mitsui was an idiot to have even thought he could possibly blag his way through this interview. He was _way_ out of his depth.

"For our development roles we require a bachelor's degree at minimum," Kogure explained. "Without this it is very unlikely that you would be able to cope with the demands of the job. Our training is designed with computer science graduates in mind. Unless you can show me some sort of evidence that your existing knowledge and skill is on par with a graduate, I don't think this is the right time for you to join our development team."

Mitsui's embarrassed blush deepened. "I... I see."

"However," Kogure Kiminobu continued. "I did call you here for an interview because I actually had a different role in mind for you."

Mitsui lifted his head. "Really?"

"Mm hmm," Kogure nodded. He was staring at Mitsui with a slightly disconcerting intensity. Mitsui fidgeted a little in his seat.

Time passed, but Kogure did not fill the silence. "And so um... what is that?" Mitsui was finally forced to ask.

Kogure sent him a strange smile that Mitsui found hard to interpret. "Well, it's a little embarrassing, to be honest with you," Kogure told him. "I- have a certain- _problem_. And I need some advice. And a man like you seems like the sort of person who might be able to... give it to me."

Mitsui blinked confusedly. _Advice?_

"You see, I am a family man, as you said. But I've never been one who was popular with... ladies and things like that." Kogure gave an uncertain laugh, his eyes dropping to the table as if shy. "And to be frank, I find my wife a little... difficult to... please."

Mitsui's eyes went wide as saucers. _Wait_. _W-w-what?_

Kogure saw his look, and shifted his weight anxiously. "I'm talking about, you know," he cringed in embarrassment. "In _bed_."

Mitsui's jaw legitimately dropped. _Am I hearing this right? Am I dreaming or something? Did I pass out in the lift and this is all a very strange and crazy dream?_

"But you," Kogure continued quickly. "Well. I saw your picture on your CV and I thought to myself... this guy looks like he knows how to... give pleasure to a woman." He gazed at Mitsui imploringly. "You... _are_? Aren't you? Sort of... experienced? Like that? With women?"

Mitsui stared back at him in disbelief. This man was one of the most successful business entrepreneurs in the country. Not to mention a multi-millionaire _and_ twice his age. This was crazy. _Crazy_.

"I'm gay," Mitsui heard himself blurt out. Like a gun shot. He didn't know what made him say it. His face turned bright red suddenly. What the hell? He wasn't even out to his family, and he was now outing himself to his potential future employer?

Kogure paused. "Oh." He slowly leaned back. "Do you mean... you _haven't_ been with a woman before?"

Mitsui shook his head mutely, squeezing his lips tightly together, wanting to die of embarrassment.

"Oh, well. Maybe that's better," Kogure considered thoughtfully. He looked up and met Mitsui's eye. "Yes. I think that would be fine. Actually what I want is for you to teach me."

" _T- t- teach you?_ "

"Yes. It is a paid position, of course," Kogure lifted a hand. "I will give you the title of... technical development assistant. That way you can put it on your CV. For your future university application."

"But-"

"I'll match the salary of the junior developers," Kogure continued. "You'll act as my personal assistant. You'll have plenty of opportunities to develop your technical knowledge by observing me and the company's practises. But, on top of regular tasks, I'll ask you to _teach_ me during special... sessions."

Mitsui's face had turned bright red. He could not understand what he was hearing. Or perhaps he understood, but couldn't possibly believe it.

"But how am I supposed to... teach you?" he stammered in confusion.

Kogure lifted a hand to indicate the room. "Just like this," he explained. "You come to my office. I lock the door. Then you demonstrate."

"Demonstrate _what_?"

"How to give pleasure."

" _How_?"

"By... doing so."

"You want me to screw your wife?" Mitsui said in total disbelief. He was really not the most intelligent crayon in the box.

Kogure Kiminobu lifted his hand to his face and slid his glasses a little way down his nose. He lowered his chin and observed Mitsui critically over the top of the glasses rim. "No," he said very slowly. "I want you to screw _me_."

Mitsui's mouth opened and shut a few times, but no sound came out.

"As I said," Kogure told him calmly, pushing his glasses back up again. "Full time junior developer's wage. A nice fancy job title. Plenty of learning opportunities." He leaned forward. "And honestly," he added. "For someone like you - with no qualifications or grades to speak of - unless you plan to work in McDonald's for the rest of your career, I'd consider this offer very very carefully."

"I-" Mitsui gulped audibly. He thought back to the dozens of applications he'd already sent out and received no reply. He was still totally dependant on his parents, but they worked hourly and the family survived on blue collar wages. And now that Mitsui had left school he needed to do his part for his family. He couldn't sponge off his parents forever. He needed to _earn_. And that was to say nothing for the fact that he _had_ already applied to McDonalds and failed _that_ interview as well.

"Why-" he stammered uncertainly. "-why me?"

Kogure Kiminobu smiled. "I like your face," he replied. "You've got that bad boy look. Reminds me of... someone I used to know." He shrugged. "That's all."

Mitsui bit his lip uncertainly. At least, he thought, Kogure was being... upfront with him. It was... an _offer_. Not exactly a... coercion. He was free to refuse. To leave. He could stand up and walk away... if he wanted to. But the money... the title... was very tempting. And Kogure Kiminobu himself... well. He wasn't a bad looking guy. Actually. Actually he was perhaps... a little bit... handsome. In a small, nerdy, kind of way. And the fact that he was older, and ridiculously wealthy? That - that wasn't so bad.

Maybe this was worth considering?

He met Kogure's eyes. "I want an extra ten percent."

"What?"

"The junior developer's wage is too low. For this... the _teaching_? I want ten percent on top."

Kogure looked momentarily astonished. As if he hadn't expected any such thing to come out of Mitsui's mouth. But then he smiled fondly. "Ok. Deal," he said with satisfaction.

Mitsui let out his breath a little shakily, not quite sure what he'd gotten himself into. "So uhm, when do I start?"

Kogure spread his hands. "How about now?"

Mitsui hesitated. He could feel dampness in his palms and under his shirt. Now? This madness was happening _now_? "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

Kogure rose slowly to his feet. "Stay sitting there. Just like that." His voice was calm, patient, giving reassurance through simple directions. But his eyes had become a little hooded. There was so much thirst in him, Mitsui realised then. "Open your fly," Kogure continued, in the same calm tone, "and let me suck your cock." 

The older man paused then for a moment, unable to hide the way his eyes were sliding down Mitsui's body, and his cheeks flushing a soft pink. "Is that okay?" he added.

A nervous fire seemed to have started up in Mitsui's stomach. He tried to keep breathing calmly. But it was all so surreal. So ridiculous. He couldn't seem to process anything properly.

He took a steadying breath. Then he nodded slightly, steeling himself. "I want a contract first," he said.

Kogure paused. "A contract?"

"An employment contract."

"Oh. I see. Yes. Of course..." Kogure was a little off balance as he reached down to fumble rapidly in one of the desk drawers, eventually pulling out some sheets of paper. There was a touch of impatience in his motions. His hands were trembling, just a bit.

"Here. Here. It's not a full contract, but an offer of employment. A contract to make a contract, in effect. My secretary will draft the full contract later." He reached for his fountain pen - an expensive branded thing - and scrawled some preliminary details into the blank spaces, before adding his own signature at the bottom.

"There - ah - please add you own name I, er..." he trailed off, a little awkward.

_He's already forgotten my name,_ Mitsui realised. Internally he sighed, then took a black ballpoint pen from a pot on the table and slowly filled in his name and signature with the date, taking a moment to check the information Kogure had already entered. He could feel Kogure's impatience radiating from the other side of the table, so he dragged out the task as long as possible. Somehow he liked the idea of keeping the older man waiting.

_He might have power and influence_ , he thought to himself. _But I have something he wants, too._

_He's obviously closeted. His wife might just be a beard. I wonder if she knows that her husband likes having his way with kids like me?_

Finally, he set down the pen. "Done," he declared. Then he sat back in his chair, looked up at Kogure with an expectant expression. The older man's lips were parted now, his breathing a little rough. Mitsui shrugged internally, _oh well, here goes nothing._ He reached for his fly and dragging it down very slowly and deliberately with a loud zip of sound.

Kogure visibly swallowed, his pupils blown wide, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow. Then he dropped to the floor where he was and physically crawled under the desk to reach Mitsui on the other side.

Mitsui relaxed back and closed his eyes as two small trembling hands reached out to touch him gently. Kogure pulled his underwear down, releasing his cock to the air.

" _Oh-"_ he heard the older man breath in appreciation.

Mitsui had no intention of paying much attention to what was happening. Instead, he started to calculate. A junior developer in this company would be earning a little over the average graduate wage, which wasn't much, to be fair. But nevertheless was better than he'd get working at the bottom of the retail chain. With the added ten percent, he'd be making considerably more than he had originally anticipated he'd be able to get.

Kogure's small mouth opened. Kneeling directly between Mitsui's thighs he took his half-hard cock slowly into his mouth and suckled on it cautiously. The length immediately began to harden further. Mitsui was big. And Kogure spluttered a little.

Mitsui licked his lips, ignoring it. He figured that at this rate he'd be able to pay his parents a fair portion of his salary for his food and board. That would take some of the pressure off them for a bit.

Kogure's lips began to rub eagerly up his length, chewing hungrily, his tongue pressing up hard against the underside of the shaft. Mitsui suddenly groaned softly, which seemed to please Kogure, who began to move more boldly.

Mitsui shook his head, swallowing another involuntary moan. He tried to concentrate on his thoughts and not think about the mouth working his cock. He'd be able to save a little bit each month, assuming he kept his expenses down. Maybe even...

Kogure's eyes fluttered closed as he knelt and licked Mitsui's cock eagerly, clearly enjoying the weight of it in his mouth. He bobbed his head and made pleased little hums of his own. Despite his claims of inexperience, it was pretty obvious that he knew exactly how to suck cock.

_I wonder how long he's been doing this_? Mitsui thought suddenly, cracked open one eye to look down on him. _Does he always want younger guys? Does that mean he'll get bored of me soon? Is it because he thinks I'm easier to manipulate? To... take advantage of?_

He realised that he had better start planning for a future move. He had no idea how long this particular cash cow was going to keep paying him. A month? Six months? A couple of years, if he was lucky? He realised he ought to try and find out what had happened to Kogure's previous "technical development assistant". Hopefully he'd moved on to something bigger and better. Hopefully he wasn't lying dead in a ditch somewhere, murdered by this psychopath.

Kogure's fingers dug into the flesh of his inner thighs, pushing his legs wider, eager for more. He opened his throat and took Mitsui right to the back. He didn't even gag.

_Holy fuck, he's good at this._ Mitsui had to grip the arms of his chair, his thoughts pulled fully away from his daydreams by Kogure's skilled mouth. He began to realise he wasn't dealing with the inexperienced nerdy loser that Kogure had first appeared, but a genius in more ways than one. 

He began to hope he could actually handle him.

Kogure's mouth massaged him with long, powerful sucks, ramping up the pleasure. Mitsui had a few fumbling erotic encounters to his name - random guys he'd picked up in clubs and bars. No one steady. He'd been blown in toilet stalls and tiny apartments before. A quick suck suck jerk jerk job. Over in minutes. But not like this. Nothing had been like this. 

_Oh, my god_.

He stared down at Kogure's bobbing head. The older man knew exactly how to drag an orgasm out of him. Not like his previous encounters at all. This was another level. This was...

Kogure looked up at him, then. His eyes were wide and doe-like behind his glasses, which were slightly askew. His cheeks flushed. Hair mused. His mouth stretched erotically around Mitsui's throbbing cock, suckling thirstily. A perfect picture. He looked so innocent. So eager to please. So _adoring_.

_He's..._

The realised stole over Mitsui in a sudden rush of realisation.

_...he's actually really fucking hot._

Suddenly the idea of fucking this man was not merely a matter of earning an extra ten percent. _I wonder what it's like... to... to..._

Kogure's lashes fluttered softly, his throat humming softly and sending a numb buzz up Mitsui's length. Mitsui was already imagining the scene. Kogure, legs spread, begging for him. On his desk. On the floor. Dribbling his cum over the carpet of his own office. 

But-

This man was the _CTO_ , Mitsui reminded himself, bewildered. The fucking CTO. And now he was on his knees _sucking_ his _cock_.

_This is- this is-_

He came very abruptly, without much build up, to the images of Kogure utterly debauched that were filling his imagination. One moment, it had been disbelief, and the next, the pleasure bursting upon him and spurting up like a jet. He gave a weak thrust of his hips, touching his cock to the back of Kogure's throat as he spilled over, slamming a hand over his own mouth to stifle his exclamation of pleasure. "Nnmmff!" he pressed the noise of his orgasm into his own palm. He would hate for the secretary outside to know what they were doing. 

Kogure held his cum in his mouth as he slowly pulled back off Mitsui's cock, and then spat it out into his hand.

He looked down at the milky globs mixed with spit in his palm. It was an unappealing mess.

"You need to get tested," Kogure said thoughtfully. As if it was something he'd just thought of. "I'll arrange it."

He sounded like he was talking about the weather. As if the fact that Mitsui's cum was driving down his chin were some ordinary everyday occurrence not worthy of note.

Mitsui could not say the same for himself. He was breathless. He was fucked. He was still seeing stars.

_Holy shit, holy shit._

Kogure got to his feet, pulling a tissue out of a box on the table and starting to clean up the worst of it.

"All right, excellent," he said eventually, and his voice was all business. "I'll see you back here on Monday, Mr Matsumo."

"Mitsui," the young man corrected him weakly, his voice all wobbly. "I'm- Mitsui."

Kogure only shook his head, as if it were irrelevant. "Take this contract to my secretary," he instructed, picking it up from the table and holding it out. "So she can make a copy and complete the full contract for you to sign on Monday."

"Okay..." Mitsui's voice was still affected. He legs felt like jelly, and his brain was total mush.

Still, he closed up his pants, straightening himself as best he could, and took the paper from Kogure's hand. He waited, but he didn't really know what he was waiting for. It was just that something felt off.

Did he expect... a kiss? Some sort of... comment? Praise? Cuddles? _Affection_? He'd just come. He'd just come _hard_. Kogure Kiminobu had blown a cock-shaped hole into his brain and stuck a sharp little pin into his heart. And now he was... doing paperwork? Like nothing had happened at all? 

It was weird.

Kogure walked around his desk and sat back in his own chair.

He looked up at Mitsui. "That's all for today."

"Oh."

"See you Monday."

"Okay. Uhm," Mitsui remembered himself enough to bow. "Thank you for this opportunity."

"You're welcome," said the CTO shortly. Then he turned back to his work.

Suddenly feeling weirdly horrible, Mitsui let himself out of the office in bemusement. The secretary looked up at him.

"Will you be coming back then?" she asked him. She seemed a little less severe than before.

Feeling a bit numb, he handed her the paper in his hand. She glanced over it.

"I see," she said. "Well I guess we'll be seeing you on Monday."

"Yeah. I guess so."

She indicated the chair where he'd placed his things - his jacket and his bag - and he went to collect them.

As he was slipping his arms into his jacket, he heard her moving behind him.

"Say," she began finally, a little hesitant.

Mitsui glanced back at her.

"Don't... fall in love with him, okay?"

"What?" Mitsui retorted in surprise, his eyes widening. _She knew._

She cringed a little. "He's easy to fall in love with. But to him, you're just cock. And eventually, he'll throw you out, just like the rest."

Mitsui felt his cheeks beginning to blush. He felt annoyed at himself for his weak and obvious reaction. "That's-" he began.

But she shook her head to silence him.

"You're a little bird, and he is a hunting cat. Don't be a fool. Use him. Take his money. But don't give him your heart. Or he'll devour you."

Mitsui left the building, feeling like he was floating in a dream. Numbly he pulled out his phone and brought up the messages. Quickly he tapped out:

> **Me** : I got the job.

**Mum** : Omg really??

> **Me** : yeah

**Mum** : that's so great! I'm so proud of you darling!

He swallowed.

Already his heart was beating fast at the mere prospect of being able to see Kogure Kiminobu again on Monday. Perhaps he would even... fuck him... on Monday?

He closed his eyes, stomach twisting. He wanted that, he realised. He did actually want to fuck him. He wanted to know what sounds he would make. How he would look. The expression on his face when he came on Mitsui's grinding cock.

_Don't give him your heart, or he'll devour you._

_Too late?_ Mitsui thought nervously, putting his hand to his chest and trying but failing to remove those gentle eyes and clever mouth from his mind. _Perhaps the warning already came... too late._


	10. Day 10 - Praise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 - Praise Kink 
> 
> Jin x Kyota (requested by SassyWolf)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My plot-to-porn ratio is so poor. I'm so sorry.
> 
> This is as promised for Sassy. You were right! The praise kink and the gratitude kink fit together so very very well.

Day 10 - Praise

Kyota Nobunaga had not always had it easy. His middle school had been low in the food chain. His parents were rarely around. He’d grow up playing basketball on the street with local hoodlums. It had been a social thing – they’d liked drinking cans of beer from 7-11, smoking something or other, and shooting hoops. Kyota had had his first cigarette at 12. Sprayed his first graffiti tag on the backboard at 13. Had been so blind drunk that he hadn’t been able to make it home for the first time at 14.

Basketball wasn’t _sport_.

It was _escape_.

No homework. No rules. No teachers to beat him down. Just a bunch of buddies taking it easy, getting a little high, and tossing up hoops, respecting one another.

That was, until he’d seen Jin Soichiro.

It had been at the same court, but it had been earlier in the day. Kyota and his group of buddies usually took over the courts at sundown – chasing out any little brats still hanging around so they could have the place to themselves. But this was mid-afternoon, just after lunch. Kyota had bailed on school, sneaking out to avoid double maths, and was aimlessly wandering the streets with nothing much to do other than kick cans and feel bored.

His feet took him without any thought to the edge of the ring fence. And he’d stood, and seen something he’d never seen before.

The same hoop. The same ball. But the energy - the energy was totally different.

He was playing alone. His eyes were warm. His expression full of concentration as he rose, shoot, dropped, and listened to the soft swish of the net.

He looked like an angel, Kyota thought then.

Truly, truly, beautiful.

He suddenly felt like a wretched, no-good thing. One of the cans on the side of the road. Dull, without any lustre. And he didn’t like it.

_I want that_ , he thought in astonishment. Though whether he meant the game, or the boy, even he wasn’t entirely sure.

But for the first time, he realised that he _had_ something. Something he could hold against his chest, and feel in his heartbeat. Some tiny little light.

_Ambition_. _Purpose_. _Hope_.

Things, he realised, had to change.

==

“Good game,” Maki said, coming off the court, knocking Kyota with a knuckle to the back of the head, causing him to stumble forward a couple of paces.

“Oh!” Kyota flushed red. “Thanks!”

He trailed after Maki eagerly, hoping the large captain would say more, but Maki had never been one for many words. Getting comments out of him was rarer than typhoons in April.

Nonetheless, Kyota followed him into the changing rooms, hanging behind him like a tiny chick following its mother, asking to be fed. Unfortunately, Maki was done talking to him, and let himself into the showers.

Kyota sat down on a bench, slumping a little, and letting his mind turn over the words.

_Good game._

_Good game_.

It made him feel warm, to know that the words had been directed at him. It would have been nicer, however, if they had been a little more specific. Perhaps even a little longer. He’d tried really hard, after all. He’d done his utmost to please his captain. Unlike the rest of his team mates, Kyota was really quite new to playing real basketball – although he disguised this fact well enough.

For all the effort he’d put in - didn’t he deserve just a little more?

He sighed.

Luckily, there was someone else he always could rely on.

==

Jin emerged from the shower, towelling his hair. He’d already changed into his street clothes. He saw Kyota sitting on the bench, and smiled for him.

“Hey-” he said, attracting the younger player’s attention. “You played really well today.”

Kyota was on his feet at once. “You think so?” he asked, with his usual blush. Although Kyota sometimes appeared a little loud and brash – maybe even rude in his manners – Jin got the feeling that his kouhai was in fact a little bit shy. Perhaps the loud laughter and the noisy challenges were a way that he’d learned in order to cover that up.

“Oh, yes,” Jin confirmed, drifting over to the lockers. “I saw you got twelve points over Muto.”

Kyota’s blush deepened. “You saw that?” he queried, his voice a little disbelieving.

“I did.”

Kyota fidgeted a little where he stood. Jin was struck with the impression that he wanted to reciprocate – that he wished he had been paying a bit more attention so that he could return the compliment to Jin. But he hadn’t, of course. He didn’t know how many points Jin had scored. He didn’t watch Jin the way that Jin watched him, after all.

_The way Jin watched him._

Jin swallowed, feeling the tips of his own ears getting a little hot. He’d begun paying more attention to Kyota recently, he knew. It was probably… a little strange. But there way something so satisfying about the way his junior would blush and squirm and twitter around him, waiting for compliments. It was rather endearing, in fact. And so Jin had started to make sure that he always had something nice to say. Something to prove that he was paying attention to Kyota’s improvement.

He wanted to do more to build Kyota’s confidence. He felt good to know that he was… helping. In this way.

But sometimes he questioned himself whether that was really the case. Sometimes he worried that perhaps he was just looking for ways to bind the younger boy to himself. Offering him something he couldn’t refuse. Like he was training a stray cat, offering tiny tidbits, coaxing it into his home, wanting it to be dependant upon him.

Wanting that little cat to become his…

...pet?

But no. That couldn’t be the case. Surely, he wasn’t so selfish as that.

There was no harm in giving little compliments. None at all. And Kyota did so very much want to receive them. It was obvious that he was a willing participant. There was nothing untoward about their friendship. Nothing. Jin was being kind, that was all.

And yet the blush on Kyota’s cheeks really was something sweet. Jin liked it. He liked it a lot.

“And your pass,” he decided to add. “To Takasago,” he smiled, “the timing was perfect.”

“R- r- r- really?” Kyota seemed a little overwhelmed. “Sempai you’re- you’re always kind. Always so-” his lips trembled a little. Jin’s eyes were drawn to them. Innocent little breaths passing in tiny puffs over pink skin.

What would it be like to-?

A sound behind them made them both jump, and they turned to see Maki stepping out, towel around his waist, hair still dripping wet. He eyed them both curiously.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “You both look a little flushed.”

“Fine,” Jin replied at once, deflecting Maki with his usual friendly smile. Because everything _was_ fine. The atmosphere was just a product of his selfish and indulgent imagination.

“Fine,” Kyota echoed him, nodding quickly.

“O…..kay,” Maki said, giving them both a puzzled look as he began to dress.

Perhaps the atmosphere _was_ a little weird. It shouldn’t have been – after all, they had hardly done anything unusual. Exchanging kind comments wasn’t an odd or elicit thing to do. And yet there was definitely a tension there. Just a bit. A little unexpected.

Jin knew he ought to take the opportunity created by Maki’s appearance to leave. He should have shouldered his bag, bid farewell, and exited the room. But for some reason he just kept standing there, combing his brush through his damp hair over and over and over again, waiting for Maki to go. And Kyota too made no move to leave. He lowered himself back down onto the bench where he’d been sitting before, looking as if he was planning to simply sit there all night.

Eventually, with a confused expression, Maki excused himself and left the two of them alone.

For a few minutes, Jin kept on brushing his hair. And Kyota kept on sitting.

“So, uhm,” Kyota was the one to eventually break the awkward silence, “sempai I- I’m really grateful that you’re always… looking after me.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Jin returned at once, stumbling over his words a little. “It’s because you’re so talented. You’re such a rising star, Nobunaga I- I- I’m just really grateful to have the chance to play with you.”

He turned around to see that Kyota had turned red enough to combust.

“N- n- no. Sempai, I’m the one who… I’m the one who’s grateful.”

He turned his eyes upwards, imploringly. His cheeks were still warm. He looked small. And eager. And something in Jin just wanted to scoop him up and hold him.

“Uhm-” Jin took a step closer. And then another. He wanted an excuse. Some reason to sit beside him. To touch him. Even if just for an instant. He wanted to know whether Kyota would lean into his hand, or recoil from his nearness.

His eyes flickered downwards, considering the curve of Kyota’s body. There was something very boyish and charming about him, Jin thought. His energy, and his enthusiasm, coupled with his very particular sweetness. Perhaps Jin was the only one privileged enough to see it. How, under the outer layer of his loudness, there was this little precious thing. So sweet. So eager to hear Jin’s soft voice.

It was nice, he thought. To have a kouhai like this. Someone who was so… receptive to him.

His eyes travelled lower. He blinked for a moment, but he didn’t feel any surprise at all. The slight tent in Kyota’s shorts was nothing less than he had expected really. Hoped for, perhaps. He felt a little warmer, just to see it. A little relieved, maybe. That he hadn’t really been imagining things after all.

==

Kyota, who hadn’t been paying much attention to his posture, suddenly realised that Jin was looking right at his growing boner with an oddly calm and thoughtful expression on his face. Horrified, Kyota sat up at once, hoping to disguise it within the folds of his trousers.

“Sempai!” he gasped, suddenly unable to think of a single thing to say that would excuse him. “I’m- I’m- sorry I-”

But Jin only smiled at him. That same, easy smile that was equal parts reassurance and equal parts angel. He took another step closer. He was beautiful, Kyota saw all over again. With his large innocent eyes and soft dewy skin. The cupid bow of his pale lips. The slight pink in his cheeks.

“Don’t worry,” Jin told him, his voice gentle, soothing, as if trying to calm Kyota and prevent him from standing up and taking flight. “It’s normal. It happens to everyone.”

Kyota gulped nervously. “Does it?” For some reason, his eyes were immediately drawn to Jin’s own crotch in curiosity, but he couldn’t make anything out through the fabric.

“Sure. Any small thing can make it happen. It doesn’t _mean_ anything. You know that, right?”

“Uhm – I guess. Maybe.”

“Like for me,” Jin explained, taking the last step so he was standing right beside where Kyota still sat. “Once, I got hard when coach Takato was yelling at me.”

Kyota’s eyes went wide. “You _did_?”

“Yes. So don’t be embarrassed.” Jin took a seat directly next to Kyota, so that their arms were pressed together. He turned to look at Kyota in curiosity, his own face a sweet shade of red, as if expecting him to say something.

To… _explain_ , Kyota realised.

“It feels nice,” Kyota blurted out. “When you say nice things to me.”

As soon as he’d said it, he felt like an idiot. What was he thinking, going and admitting something weird like that? Jin was definitely – definitely – going to think he was a freak.

“I mean, er-” he quickly tried to backpedal. “I don’t really, I mean, it’s not like I- er-”

But Jin was still smiling calmly at him. “Yeah, it does, right? When people are nice to you. It’s nice.”

Kyota was blinking at him confusedly, but grateful that Jin seemed to accept and allow this odd deviation in his personality. Maybe Jin was the same, he thought hopefully. Maybe Jin liked hearing nice things too. He noticed that Jin was also blushing, his lips parted, a quiet hint of his uncertainty visible in his expression.

“Because-” Jin nevertheless continued, slowly reaching out with one hand to brush gently between Kyota’s legs, “-I really do admire you, Nobunaga.”

Kyota let out a small squeak as he felt Jin’s long fingers against his hardness.

“I’ve never seen anyone play like you,” Jin added, letting his hand slide fully around to cup the underside of his shaft gently. “You’re really the best.”

‘Sem-pai-” Kyota gasped, his face furiously red, his eyes filling with disbelieving tears.

“Let me help you with this?” Jin asked him, sounding a little nervous. As if he thought Kyota might suddenly refuse.

Kyota was trembling so much he was worried he wouldn’t be able to answer, and might disappoint Jin somehow. “P- p- please,” he managed to stammer. “I- I- I- want to touch you, too.”

It was Jin’s turn to look embarrassed. “O- okay. If you- want.”

==

They secreted themselves behind the lockers, so that if anyone were to burst unexpectedly through the door, they wouldn’t be seen right away. Jin’s fringe kept sticking to the sweat on his forehead, and he pushed it away impatiently, concentrating on wrapping his hand right around the two shafts, pumping them both together. He had to push his hips forward and bend his knees to get the right angle. Kyota was a whole ten centimetres shorter than he was, after all.

Kyota, with his back flat against the metal lockers, groaned, biting his lip anxiously.

“Sempai-” he kept muttering, a little deliriously. “Sempai, ngh!”

“Is it okay?” Jin wanted to know, his voice low and a little laboured. “Are you okay? Does it feel good?”

“So good-” Kyota responded dazedly, the back of his head bumping against the lockers with each pump of Jin’s hand. “Please- sempai please-”

Jin flushed with pleasure.

“You look so good,” he told Kyota indulgently, earning himself another groan, and the sight of Kyota’s eyelashes fluttering helplessly against his cheeks. “I love seeing you like this.”

He squeezed his hand a little harder. Moved his arm a little faster. The _shik shik_ sound of his beating motion seemed to fill the entire room.

“Do you like it?” he asked again.

“Thank you, sempai, thank you,” Kyota managed to choke out.

_Ah-_

_Perfect._

A buzz seemed to have filled Jin’s head. Kyota’s proffered gratitude set his stomach twisting in pleasure. He brought his free hand down under their erections and took gentle hold of their sacks, kneading him together carefully.

A desperate gasp came from Kyota’s mouth, his tears finally spilling over.

“Beautiful, so beautiful,” Jin promised, leaning in to suckle at the crook of his neck. Kyota immediately tilted his head further in offering. “You really are the best, Nobunaga-” Jin pressed the words into his skin. Then he brought out his tongue and ran it hot and thick over the pulse in Kyota’s neck.

“Ngh, ngh, ngh!” It took only a few more pumps of his fist to push Kyota into orgasm. His whole body locked up tight, suddenly rigid against the lockers, and his cock pulsing white over Jin’s fist. Jin let himself go at the same time, his eyes squeezing shut, his teeth biting down hard into Kyota’s flesh as his back curled inwards, feeling the pleasure spurt upwards through his fingers and splattering across Kyota’s stomach.

They stood still and unmoving for a few minutes, just breathing heavy into the heated air, sharing breath. Finally, Jin loosened his cum-sticky grip and let their members part from one another. Kyota blinked at him dazedly.

“Thank you, sempai-” he murmured.

Jin blushed, and swallowed back down the sudden rise of embarrassment that was threatening to come over him. He could hardly believe he had just done that.

“We- we need another shower,” he pointed out instead, keen to concentrate on something practical, stumbling a little over his words.

Kyota smiled up at him, a little shyly. Then he stepped forwards, grabbing tight hold of Jin’s t-shirt and pulling him into a gentle kiss.

Jin’s eyes went wide.

“Together, sempai?” Kyota asked him, once their lips had softly parted.

Blushing, Jin stammered, “I think so, y- y- yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is likely the last one of these for this month. At the moment I don't have the heart to write any more of these.
> 
> I really wanted to get this one written since it was a special request, but I didn't have the energy to even read it back. I really hope it's not too disappointing.
> 
> Thanks for reading it anyway.


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